Tired of Waiting for You
by Laina Lee
Summary: Although Anne broke her engagement with Frederick, still she waits for him. In this variation, Anne does not wait passively but seeks to prepare herself for her hoped-for future, friends intervene to help them and Sophia Croft acts on Frederick's behalf to bring Anne to Frederick. DELAY in UPDATES (I plan to get back to this eventually).
1. Chapter 1

**A week or two ago I woke up early with the chorus of the Kinks's song "Tired of Waiting for You" playing in my head and the image of a woman waiting. I wondered which of Jane Austen's characters it was. As I tried to go back to sleep for a little while (after all I should try to sleep in on a Saturday), I realized it was Anne and she wasn't just thinking it, she was writing it. I wondered if she was writing a letter, but then realized it was a journal. And that's where this plot bunny came from. If you aren't familiar with the song, give it a listen or read the lyrics 'cause it is perfect for her.**

 **(By the way, has anyone noticed there is an inconsistency in the first two pages of Persuasion? According to Baronetage, Elizabeth was born on June 1, 1785 and Anne is born in August 9, 1787 and her mom dies in 1800. Even if Lady Elliot died after her daughters birthdays, that would make them 15 and 13 when she died, but on the next page it says "[Lady Elliot] had found enough in her duties, her friends, and her children, to attach her to life, and make it no matter of indifference to her when she was called on to quit them. - Three girls, the two eldest sixteen and fourteen, was an awful legacy for a mother to bequeath.")**

When Anne was almost ten-years-old in the summer of 1797, she was impatiently waiting for a trip to the seaside with her family. Her mother had told her of the waves, of the sound of them crashing, of the sand, of the swooping and circling birds and the smell of the sea water, and of the friends they would be residing with who had twin daughters that looked just like each other. All these things seemed quite fantastical to Anne and she was eager to experience them for herself.

Her mother became tired of Anne asking when they would leave for the trip and one day brought Anne a journal. Her mother had the days marked off in a sort of calendar upon the first page. She told Anne, "Every day you may mark off the day before you go to bed. When you are impatient, look upon how many days are left and put your thoughts upon these pages. It will help the time pass faster."

Anne dutifully marked off each day at its conclusion. She also did pen a few words about her impatience. However on the morning the trip commenced, the journal was tossed in her traveling case and remained closed the rest of the trip. Anne had too much enjoyment in the trip to take the time to record her experiences. When they returned home, she placed the journal in a drawer and the journal remained largely forgotten after that.

A year later, Anne was waiting for a puppy that had been promised to her. Anne kept asking her mother when the puppy would be old enough to to leave its mother. Out of desperation, her mother asked if Anne still had her journal. After searching, Anne brought it to her mother. Her mother again marked out the days Anne would have to wait and again Anne marked them down, one-by-one, and also recorded a few thoughts about her hopes for what it would be like to have that puppy. Once again, when the puppy arrived, other than recording the name she had given the dog, Anne stopped writing in it and forgot about the journal.

Anne did not think about the journal again until her mother sickened in the year 1800. Then, for some reason, it was all she could think about. She thought about whether there was an unrecorded count-down occurring, if someone knew how many days her mother might have left to dwell among them, and was ticking them down, one-by-one.

To try to counter this unrecorded count-down, Anne wrote down her mother's name in full and then the years 1800, 1801 and so on until there were enough years to measure her mother's life up past the age of 100. Anne hoped that in doing so she could affix her mother to this life. However, whatever magic she felt she could find in recording these numbers, it was to no avail.

Instead, Anne watched God's countdown tick down for her mother and knew she was waiting for her mother's death. The diminishing days were clear each morning when she awoke and rushed to her mother's side. Though she did not know which day would be her mother's last, she knew the day was nearing. When it finally came and she watched her mother breathe her last, Anne begged her mother not to go, but even as those words left her mouth, she knew they would have no effect. Her mother was dead.

That evening as Anne prepared for bed she thought about the journal. It was innocuously, innocently sitting in her drawer, the same as when she had laid it down a few days earlier with her hopes captured in the years written on its pages. Angrily, she ripped out those pages. She then wrote: "October 21, 1800" skipped a line and wrote, "My mother has died. All the rest of the days of my life shall pass away before I am happy again."

Anne then closed the journal, placed it back in her drawer and went to bed. She did not sleep for a long, long time.

In the years that followed, all the countdowns recorded in her journal were mostly count-downs of dread. She wrote down how many days until her mother's funeral, how many days until she would have to leave for school, how many days until each summer, how many days until she would finally be allowed to leave school, how many days until her coming out bleak as it was to be ushered into womanhood by Lady Russell instead of her mother. The few thoughts she wrote in her journal were inevitably sad, but took up hardly any space at all. So it was that before the summer of 1806 commenced, Anne had only filled out twelve pages and ripped out three in a journal containing more than one hundred.

She reflected that nothing much worth writing was written down and this journal should more than suffice to contain all the disappointments of her days.


	2. Chapter 2

It was not long after Anne met Commander Frederick Wentworth in June of 1806, that she finally felt all the foolishness of her previous declaration to her journal that she would never be happy again. Such a youthful pronouncement seemed silly indeed when she commanded his attention and he, hers.

In everything but fortune and breeding, Anne believed Commander Wentworth to be her superior. She found him a remarkably fine young man, with a great deal of intelligence, spirit and brilliancy.

He determined quickly in their acquaintance that such an extremely pretty girl, with gentleness, modesty, taste, and feeling was well worth courting and marrying. His determination rapidly overshadowed any hesitancy Anne might have felt, for she had been a young woman without anyone to love, or at least one without anyone to love who seemed to both need and appreciate it.

Her father's vanity was such that he loved no one who did not reflect the supposed magnificence of his appearance and consequence, and his daughter Elizabeth was the only one who fit that description because she was the only one who took after him and of the most consequence by being his eldest. Although Anne was equally lovely and had the decided improvement upon her eldest sister of having a lovely character as well, Sir Walter was not one to value inner beauty. Additionally, he was vaguely disquieted by Anne as she resembled her dearly departed mother overmuch and Sir Walter had an amorphous disappointment with the woman who had loved him but failed to provide him with a heir or companionship in his later years.

Her older sister Elizabeth, basking in the reflected glory of Sir Walter, and enjoying only her flower garden, had no feelings of depth to bestow on her sister Anne as Anne would not heap undeserved praise upon her.

Her younger sister Mary absorbed attention and love rather than sharing it. Instead of earning sisterly affection through seeking to understand and relate to Anne, Mary demanded it through constantly feigned or unreasonably magnified illnesses. Anne strove to understand her sister and believed that it stemmed from a lack of suitable affection in her formative years following their mother's death.

Anne knew without having observed it herself, as she was sent away to school the year following her mother's death, that Mary would have been left quite alone at around the age of ten. Their governess was not one to do anything beyond what was required and Anne knew that it was unlikely that Mary received anything approaching affection from Sir Walter or Elizabeth. Additionally, Mary was not a favorite of Lady Russell's. Therefore, she would have only received from Lady Russell whatever she considered required out of the affection Lady Russell bore for her departed mother.

Anne also felt guilty that in her grief following her mother's death, she had turned inward and not sought to give her younger sister the affection she craved. Early on in this period Mary was indeed ill, and it was only this that moved Anne and Lady Russell to spend time specifically tending to her, thus setting up a constant pattern in her life.

While Anne did have Lady Russell's affection, that lady had no particular need of her and Anne could not help but think that her friend would be happy to be freed of any perceived responsibility toward her and to have the freedom of quitting Kellynch Lodge permanently.

Anne's affection for Fredrick was of an entirely different character than to these others. With Fredrick (for quite early in their interactions before it was proper for her to do so aloud Anne called him Fredrick in her most secret of thoughts) she found herself (and he likewise) rapidly and deeply in love, an equal partner in affection they both needed and craved.

Thus outside a ball one evening, after just having completed a set with him, Anne found herself pulled outside and running with him through a flower garden and to the other side of a sheltering oak, with no care for propriety, her dress or her slippers. Within the relative privacy of its mighty trunk, she was embraced by him and had no hesitation in accepting and responding to his kisses. She knew him to be a man of honor and her future husband.

Her lips, which had never kissed another, delighted in meeting his own and such was the roar of passion flooding through all of her being that she would have given everything she could to him then and there without any thought or hesitation.

Fortunately for Anne, while Frederick showed no restraint in exiting with her and taking her to a place of privacy, he knew better than to try to take what she might later regret giving. Accordingly he did no more than kiss her passionately for a few minutes before separating from her enough that he might tell her of his plans for the future.

All of Anne's carefully tended rationality and general good sense was swept away by her emotions which placed her in his visions for the future buoyed by his unshakable confidence in himself and in her. Who could fault her for living in the dream that she could in fact be forever valued for herself alone?

Who could doubt then what her answer would be when he proposed as she had known he would, declaring with a powerful warmth his affections, intentions and certainty that they would marry in the years to come? Though having never been aboard a ship or any sort of boat in her life, his confidence imbued in her the certainty that when he had a suitable vessel under his command that she might happily live aboard the ship with him. She knew that people unaccustomed to the pitch and roll of the seas might become ill indeed, but believed Fredrick's assurance that she would soon grow accustomed to it. He gave as an example and model for her the happiness his own sister had aboard the ship of her husband, a Captain Croft.

He also wove a story of their future felicity where she would be valued not just by him for her companionship but others for her usefulness. He believed she could acquire the ability to tend any wounded on board after they received the ministrations of the ship's surgeon, which was something that although she had never tried (beside soothing Mary's mostly imaginary ills and tending her mother to provide mild relief as she prepared to depart this world), he was certain would be a vocation suited to her gentleness and feeling for her fellow man, which would gain her the approbation of his whole crew.

When Anne, having regained a bit of sense, asked what would occur in such a position if she should become with child, he spoke most passionately about how it was possible to rear children upon the ship, for especially boys might from an early age begin to gain an occupation. While he allowed that perhaps girl children could not be raised in such a way, he was certain that if needed he could settle her in a suitable home or perhaps they could arrange for others to rear such children until they were old enough for school, with protracted visits between postings.

All that would delay their promised upcoming felicity was gaining the approbation of her father and the deferral of the ceremony occasioned by an engagement until he might gain sufficient fortune and position.

Anne was in agreement with all his plans and how could she not be? He was certain enough for the both of them.

Furtively they snuck back into the ball separately and no one seemed to notice anything, though that night when her maid helped Anne undress, the maid noticed her slippers were no longer fit to be used again and wondered to herself which clumsy lout had marred them by treading upon dear Anne's feet. Her maid could never have conceived that Anne might have gained the dark stains from running outside at night.

By candlelight, before Anne sought her bed that evening, Anne thought her happiness and newest countdown needed to be memorialized in her journal. She simply wrote the date and then, "Frederick is to be my husband, must await fortune and a suitable posting before we wed." She did not write months or years to mark off; she would wait for more clarification before she did so.


	3. Chapter 3

The next day as they had prearranged, Commander Wentworth met Anne just outside of Kellynch Hall and they took a walk and talked. In the light of day Anne felt a bit self conscious about their long kiss and embrace from the night before, though she simultaneously desired its repetition and felt all the warmth of being engaged to the man she adored.

Commander Wentworth had an idea of why Anne blushed so when she looked at him, but he was glad that she had a passionate nature hidden beneath her normal calm and demure appearance. He resolved to be prudent and restrained, but felt delight in having the freedom to call her Anne and hearing his Christian name from her lips. Each repetition of it was a caress.

Anne enjoyed holding onto her Frederick's arm and talking about their future. They resolved that he ought to seek the approval of her father later that day, though Anne warned him that she was not so certain that it would be granted. She knew that Frederick was not the sort of match that her father would expect her to make. However, Frederick reassured Anne that if her father declined his permission that they would simply wait until her majority. Anne resolved that should her father not approve, she could write the months starting with the current one, August, and the twenty four months until she became one and twenty, August of 1808, in her journal. Twenty four months did not seem to be an insurmountable time to wait.

Later when Commander Wentworth sought the approval of Sir Walter, he was glad to be forewarned. Although Anne's father's approval was neither specifically granted nor denied and it appeared no dowry would be forthcoming, Commander Wentworth was not especially bothered by it. He was used to doubters and naysayers. He could have languished as a midshipman instead of a lieutenant, or a lieutenant instead of a commander, but merit was of paramount importance in the navy and he had proven himself worthy of a command. While he had no doubt his first ship would be of dubious seaworthiness, he would prove his value once again.

Also to his thinking, Sir Walter's approval was of dubious value. In all likelihood his Anne would have reached her majority before the marriage could take place (a matter that he had not raised with her, and even that might be unduly optimistic of him), for though certain of his luck and confident that he would be rich one day, he would not marry her before she could accompany him to sea. He never wanted to subject her to the possibility of the protracted humiliation of having to return home as a widow thickening with child before he had any wealth to settle upon her.

Although Anne did not hear anything from her father regarding Frederick's request, she could tell he was displeased with her that day, repeatedly shaking his head in a "no" when he looked in her direction. However, she could weather her father's disapproval as she knew her proper daughterly affection was unreturned with any but the thinnest of fatherly love. She simply returned to her chambers and wrote the months to be waited in her journal without undue distress.

However, Anne was unprepared for the steadfast and rational opposition from one who had almost a mother's love and rights, when she came to speak to Lady Russell the following day to share her joy.

Lady Russell did not react as Anne expected, when Anne told her, "I am to be married to Commander Wentworth."

There were no smiles or well wishes, only another drawn face lightly shaking, "no."

"I am surprised at you Anne. Usually you are much more careful in your choices. I can only surmise that your emotions have overwhelmed your sense and you will think better of this arrangement when you have considered the matter properly as you ought. Dear Anne, can you not see that you will be left dangling like the last leaf clinging upon a branch in autumn, ready to be dislodged with the barest of breezes, your future selected by the uncertain winds of fortune? Whatever the personal merits of this Mr. Wentworth, he asks too much for you to be placed into dependence reliant on chance."

When Anne made no answer, eyes suddenly bleary with unshed tears, Lady Russell ruthlessly continued, believing any current distress well worth the prevention of Anne's removal by a fearless and headstrong stranger without alliance or fortune who without a thought or care to Anne herself was willing to sink her into a state most wearing and anxious which would slaughter the delicate bloom of youth and beauty before her, replacing it with the millstone of youth-killing dependence.

"He has no connections, no hopes of gaining affluence. If he might die, you will have given up your youth and innocence for nothing but perhaps might return home. However if he should be wounded and exiled from the sea, you might languish in poverty your whole life."

To this Anne had no reply. She could feel the depths of despair that would afflict her upon the occasion of his imaginary death. Her mother's death would be nothing to it. She imagined pleading through her journal that the seaman informing her must be mistaken while knowing with certainty that what she had been told was true. She would then consider that act which would doom her immortal soul to endless suffering in the lake of fire. Her suicide note would be a simple last inscription on the next blank page of her journal, "Life is nothing without him."

As to the other possible future Lady Russell painted, Anne could imagine a wounded Frederick who she would heroically nurse and devote everything to, who while still adoring her might be bitter that he could not return to sea but instead must remain confined to small quarters on land. She imagined (though she did not know how to knit) knitting socks to support them. She would gladly play that role if it meant she would be with him.

However, Lady Russell, like a skilled commander attacking a weakness only she could make out, next decided to turn Anne's loyalty against Commander Wentworth.

"You have said he does not wish to marry you until he has made his fortune, but being tied to you will alter his chances of success."

Anne could not help but inquire as to Lady Russell's meaning.

"You told me that he has risen to his current rank through bravery and merit. How much easier is it for a single man to pursue doggedly all that he desires, to cast caution to the wind and do what he must, when compared to a man distracted by his distant fiancee. Men rise in the navy through war and capture of enemy vessels, by risking life and limb, by thinking of nothing else. They cannot be successful if their loyalties are divided between king and wife. And this dubious plan of living on his ship with him, why I do not believe such a practice actually exists and if it might how would a man do what he ought to do where it might subject his wife to a risk to her life. Anne, if he had properly thought the matter through he would have never proposed to you."

At this final pronouncement, Anne felt the all the condemning rightness in what Lady Russell had said. She could not bear to look at Lady Russell's sympathetic eyes or take any comfort from the woman who with her words had condemned Anne to having to do the right thing. Before her threatened tears could fall, Anne departed rudely without even a parting word and rushed from Kellynch Lodge. Her feet carried her in the direction of her home. Almost without any conscious thought she found herself in her chambers and opening her journal.

She stared at the months she had written down earlier. How optimistic they seemed now. She thought about writing down years and decades, a whole lifetime condemned to be without him.

Instead she wrote, "Lady Russell has convinced me that I must give him up for his own good, but how can I go on living without him? Without hope?"


	4. Chapter 4

Anne resolved that the next day she _should_ , she _must_ tell Frederick of the impossibility of their engagement. However, when she saw him next (again he was conveniently walking near her house as they had arranged he would now do every day, and she went to join him, needing no stealth or excuse as no one she lived with had any particular desire to inquire as to where she was going or what she was doing; Mary being the only one who might normally do so for her own selfish purposes of desiring to be tended to during her current cold was still sleeping or pretending to sleep), her resolve faded away. She thought to herself, I must have more time with Frederick, to memorize a little further the shape of his smile, the way he looks at me, the feel of his presence. I must have these small crumbs to feed on during a lifetime of loneliness.

On this occasion she took no pleasure in his eloquent discussion of their future, knowing as she did that it was all to come to naught. She was far more quiet than her usual wont which is to say that beyond her initial greeting rather than contributing occasionally she was entirely silent.

Frederick noticed this behavior on her part but did not know what to attribute it to, besides her father specifically denying to Anne what he had only vigorously discouraged to himself. Therefore, he resolved that she simply needed to be encouraged as to the firmness of their plans, which is why he kept talking of their future.

Finally the discussion of what was _not to be_ was too much for Anne, all her agony in this loss demanded she speak. Almost as if she was watching someone else, her body performed the action of separating itself from him when she released his arm (the arm that had previously delighted her to simply grasp, to feel through the layers of her glove, his coat and shirt, whose release left her hand empty, bereft). As she let it go she thought, this is the last time I shall hold his arm, all intimacies are now at an end.

She turned to him and said simply, gently, "Stop."

Frederick was confused. He halted walking, thinking that was what she was wanting, but in looking in her beloved face and sad eyes, he knew it was not. In an instant of insight he knew something terrible was about to happen. It was the same insight he had sometimes when aboard a ship. Somehow his mind could read an entire situation and grasp the one thing that was off that portended disaster: an improperly tied rope about to slip, the presence of an enemy ship communicated through a change of activity in circling birds, the argument about to break out between crew mates which might result in one of their deaths if not prevented. Depending upon what was wrong, sometimes it could be remedied before the bad thing happened, or if not remedied its effects minimized.

Thus Frederick's tongue of its own account told her preemptively, "I shall not give you up."

This was apparently the wrong thing to say as Anne burst into tears that neither she nor Frederick expected at that moment.

When the first torrent died down a little and been mopped away with one of her gloves, she answered, "You must. I will not be the cause of you exercising the caution due a bridegroom so that he may return for his bride, which shall prevent your success in your chosen occupation. The time we have known each other is too brief for a deep attachment and I will not obligate you to return to satisfy your honor alone."

Even as Anne's mouth said these words, she felt a wrongness in them. They were Lady Russell's words, save for the changes necessitated by Anne speaking to Frederick, rather than Lady Russell speaking to Anne.

"How can you diminish what we have?" Frederick questioned, "How can you doubt the strength of my love? I would give up everything for you!"

He believed those words when he said them, though a small part of him said that it was his destiny to return to the sea, to earn the true appellation of "captain" rather than the honorary one he would receive from his first crew on a non-commissioned ship, and that if she had asked him to give up his profession for her, he might not. Though of course there was no other occupation he could take up, and if he gave up life in the navy he would not be able to afford to marry her. He might currently have a home with his brother, but this was only by grace.

"Then give me up, as this is what I ask of you."

Anne's words had a logic to her, even as they tore her up inside. She did not know how she was even able to remain standing, to not collapse in a heap right there, to not suffer an apoplectic fit and die from the agony she felt. However, the most visible outward sign of all she was feeling was that she could not meet his gaze and her face turned downward toward the ground.

Frederick would not let her eyes avoid his own. With gentle tenderness he placed one finger under her chin and drew it upward. At first Anne's eyes remained downcast, but eventually she met his eyes with hers as his finger glided away.

"How can you ask this of me?" He asked, his voice raw and cracking with emotion.

"I ask it of you because I love you and I want only the best for you."

Though Frederick had talked of love when he asked Anne to be his wife, and he was certain she returned his love based on every action and look from her, they both realized that this was the first time that she had spoken of that love aloud, and what an awful way it was for her to have done so, to both grant his deepest desire (apart from being married to her and continuing the physical expression of that love that they shared beyond those passionate kisses outside the ball) and simultaneously tear it asunder.

An appropriate answer, formed from bitterness and agony, sprung from his lips.

"If you loved me you would never let me go. You have used me quite ill to pretend affection and then at the first sign of opposition to send me away."

Almost without his own volition, he turned away from her and toward his brother's home.

It took all of Anne's self control not to yell out after him, _do not go_. A small part of her felt (though the larger part of her felt all the impracticability of this irrational desire of hers) that if he really loved her that instead of departing he would have pulled her into his arms and kissed her in full view of anyone passing by, might brand her as his through whatever actions could follow kissing, and she would let him, give him anything he wanted, let him overwhelm all her opposition, if only he would truly not let her give him up.

Instead, when he was well and truly gone, she said to herself and the breeze, "When you have made your fortune, come back to me, please!" Those words kept echoing in her mind as she took the few steps necessary to take her inside. When she reached her chambers she took her journal out and wrote down those words.


	5. Chapter 5

**Many thanks to reviewers LadyJaeza, nanciellen, Liysyl, and mariantoinette1; I am glad to have you back for my latest WIP. Your support keeps me committed to my daily posting schedule.**

Frederick let his anger carry him all the way back to his brother's home, his long strides and fearsome countenance discouraging any who crossed his path from attempting to talk with him. He was angry to be spurned, something that had never occurred to him could possibly take place. He knew he was worthy of Anne's hand and her prior acceptance had confirmed it. Rather than be willing to see anything in the situation which might justify her actions, he simply disparaged to himself the weakness in her character that he should have noticed previously, which would have prevented him from seeking her hand in the first place.

She had been swayed by other people's opinions, of that he had no doubt. And he knew where to place the blame. The sentiments she expressed had a subtly that her father was not capable of, nor her sisters. Although he was only lately introduced to Lady Russell and had only exchanged a few pleasantries with her, Anne had expressed that she was as a mother to her. Frederick could believe of Lady Russell, who while saying everything proper was subtly disparaging of him, to have an intelligence (what he now deemed a shrewd and deceptive cunning) that Anne's family lacked. He saw in her present interference a clinging to older ideas about the importance of rank and marrying to impress others and secure one's place in society rather than based on love and genuine affinity. Undoubtedly, Lady Russell believed he had set his sights too high, but how was it that Anne could agree?

He could see no legitimate justification for either woman's actions. It did not occur to him as he entered the vicarage (his brother was fortunate to have lodging there as the vicar who was a widower was lonely and had even welcomed Frederick, so long as Frederick shared his brother's room, made no extra work for the maid and paid a portion for his food), that his very current living condition could justify Lady Russell's actions. Frederick was used to much closer quarters at sea, hammocks piled tightly together, men aloft and below him. Only the captain (and on larger ships sometimes the most senior officers) would have private quarters. As a lad he had always shared his brother's bed so it never occurred to him that there was something lacking in his present accommodations.

Upon reaching their shared chambers, Frederick could not settle himself. He was ready to be off, to seek his new ship, to prove Anne wrong. He had been ashore long enough and if Anne was to be believed what he should do now is leave her behind and pursue his ambitions with all vigor, unencumbered by planning for a future with her. He resolved to speak to his brother that evening and depart at first light in the morning. He never wanted to chance seeing Anne again. Pleading with her again would just show that he was weak and he would show no further weakness if he could avoid it.

Anne for her part spent the day weeping in her room. She tried to console herself with the idea that she had done the right thing, the right thing for Frederick. But it did not feel right.

Part of her wanted to seek him out, even if it would mean he would yell at her again. For at least if he were yelling at her, it would mean a few more moments with him, a chance for something to change, a chance for a different solution.

Part of her wanted to make him understand and see the merit of her position. Why could he not admit she was right? It would be rash to be engaged for an uncertain period. So much could change before he could return. What if he were lost at sea? What if he lost his heart to another? What if he were demoted or less successful than he anticipated? Should she really waste her life waiting for him when a more brilliant match could be made? Of course she did not believe any of these arguments that Lady Russell made.

Part of her wanted to pound on the vicarage door and demand he come out, and then when he did she would yell at him, uncowed by the watching maid, and cast his own words back upon him: "If you loved me you would never let me go." Then she would ask him, "Why did you let me go? How could you give up on us this easily?"

She imagined him then declaring, "I never have. I left merely to retrieve my belongings for our journey." He would then kiss her until she lost all her previous resolve to give him up and he would tell her, as the hero in a silly novel, "I cannot live without you, cannot bear another moment away from you, I must marry you as soon as can be." She would pack a trunk with a few possessions and her valuables and they would elope to Scotland. She imagined the harried journey, having to sleep beside him in a hired hack and then being married as soon as they crossed the border. Then they could have a few weeks of bliss (she had some jewelry she could sell to fund the journey and sustain them for that long) and when it was time for him to depart on his ship, she would perhaps find lodging with another naval wife in exchange for tending her children and teaching the girls all the womanly arts. She thought that she would be willing to learn how to cook and clean, would happily take on any task if it might mean that she would be reunited with him some day when he had risen further in the ranks as he had foretold.

At the same time she knew the ridiculousness of such a notion that she could live separately from her father, her husband or Lady Russell. Anne understood she would be useless compared to a woman of more humble means who learned how to do all the tasks that an army of Kellynch Hall servants currently performed for her. She bemoaned that women of her class were not taught anything useful. She had always wanted more than to just be an ornament for a rich or titled man's arm, more than simply being a repository for his passion, a womb for his children, but no one before Frederick had ever questioned the planned ordering of her life according to society's rules.

The idea that Frederick had given her, that she could learn a valuable skill and help by tending the injured and sick had a particular appeal to her. To be of more value than than her pedigree was alluring. She wanted the right to demand such a future, to put her own needs first and damn the consequences.

But Anne had a strong practical side. No one had ever accused her of running away with her emotions, of being impulsive, at least no one besides Lady Russell in their last conversation. She wanted to be more impulsive still, to actually run not away, but toward something and someone, the best someone she knew. Yet her practical side restrained her, leashed her to her previous words asking him to give her up, based on the one final argument that Lady Russell had given her.

Lady Russell said, "Anne, you are as of yet still a child. Can you not trust that my lifetime of experience helps me see your situation with the distance and clarity that you lack? Can you not see that your mother in entrusting you to me, had wisdom and wanted you to have my guidance for just such a situation? She loved you as I do, please believe that I never would unnecessarily cause you pain and neither would she."

Thus, if Anne continued in opposing Lady Russell it would be as if she was rejecting her own mother's wisdom and forethought. The love that Anne bore for her dear departed Mother was the last thing that restrained Anne from going after Frederick.

She wrote in her journal, "I am still yours. Do not give up on me."


	6. Chapter 6

Anne passed a nearly sleepless night. The sleep she did have was half memories of her last conversation with Frederick and half imaginings. In some, their conflict was resolved with a kiss; in others he was far more angry and said the most terrible things to her.

When she finally determined that she would sleep no more, she resolved that she must see him but stayed abed until the sun rose. While she could have summoned her maid then, she felt it would be wrong to get the girl from her bed. Too, Anne was waiting to see if her resolution to see Frederick would hold firm or if she would think the better of it upon reflection.

As she waited for her maid to arrive, she tried to decide what she would say to him, but everything she imagined seemed wrong. She could not decide whether she should beg his forgiveness or beg him to understand, say she was wrong or say she was right.

When her maid finally arrived, Anne's morning routine seemed to stretch on and on. First she needed to attend to her morning ablutions with the water her maid poured in the basin, then she needed to decide what she wished to wear that day and then her maid assisted her in dressing and styled her hair. Anne was slow to decide on a dress and slow to decide on a hairstyle. She felt indecision about everything, even whether she would indeed seek Frederick out after she was ready for the day.

She considered breaking her fast, but could not bear the thought of eating and knew she needed to decide whether to walk out or remain at home. Her indecision finally was broken when she resolved that she need not decide in advance what to say. Instead she would simply find him and trust that in the moment the right words would come.

When Anne set out she was hoping, perchance, that she would see Frederick walking toward Kellynch Hall to see her; in fact as she approached Monkford, she considered whether her earlier indecision about setting out had to do with her hoping that he would make the decision that they needed to see each other for her.

However, it was not to be. When Anne finally approached the vicarage, a bit out of breath as she was not used to such a lengthy excursion, she saw Mr. Edward Wentworth instead of Frederick. He was sitting on a rock outside, a pensive look on his face. He rose when she approached.

They exchanged greetings, but almost as soon as those were exchanged Anne asked, "Is your brother awake? I should like to speak to him."

"Awake, dressed and already departed." Mr. Wentworth responded.

"Departed?" Anne asked, knowing even before she received clarification that he was gone, really and truly gone.

"Yes, he left to seek his first command."

"I . . . I . . . thought there was more time. I did not want it to end like this." Anne lapsed into silence.

"He could not stay with how things were."

Anne was silent. She was reflecting that the choice she had made could no longer be taken back. An odd sort of calm settled over her. She did not have to decide what to say to Frederick because there was nothing to be said and no one to say it to. She must have been right before or at least his quick action must have shown that he accepted her decision.

"I write to him regularly," Mr. Wentworth said. "Is there any message I should pass onto him?"

"No," Anne replied, not trusting that she could come up with anything appropriate for this situation. "I must return home now." She did not add, as she had no reason to believe it might be true, that her family would be worried.

"It was nice to see you," she said and turned away from him and toward home.

Anne trudged home slowly. She had to make an effort to make her legs move. She felt as if she was walking through a heavy syrup. In the weeks that followed, it was hard for her to even feign an interest in the things she had previously enjoyed. Everything felt dull and bland. She had no enjoyment in balls, or new dresses, or in spending time with her friends. It was as if widow stuck in mourning had replaced the formerly vibrant young woman of nineteen.

Although Anne felt hopeless, she was not so sunk as to consider taking her own life. She knew that somewhere in the world Frederick was present and perhaps, just perhaps, one day he might return to her.

When she took the time to write in her journal, it was to state how many days, then months, then years it was since she last saw Frederick and to ponder if some day he might return.


	7. Chapter 7

**Sorry for skipping a day; I was writing an outtake for one of my other stories. I decided it was better to wait on this next chapter rather than post a skimpy entry like Chapter 6.**

Frederick followed through on leaving first thing in the morning, not because he wanted to be far from Anne, but because he did not want to beg her to change her mind. He wanted to keep his dignity at least. At least that is what he told himself. Really he could not bear the thought of seeing Anne and knowing that she would not be his.

Frederick told Edward very little about why he suddenly needed to leave, but Edward knew it had to do with Miss Anne Elliot. Though Frederick had not shared much about the time he spent with Miss Anne, Edward had noted how Frederick's behavior had changed and that the change was connected with her. Edward had seen how they looked at each other.

Edward recalled that three days earlier Frederick seemed quite pleased with himself, but had only shared that he had good news but a few details still had to be worked out. As far as Edward could tell, whatever was left to be worked out had proven to be insurmountable instead.

Edward knew his brother was brash and overly confident; it was something he admired in his little brother, that he would not be restrained to his proper place. Their sister was like that, too, and for that she was amply rewarded by attracting the attention of Captain Croft who admired her courage and liveliness. Edward loved his brother and sister, but could not really understand this quality about them.

Edward himself had a good sense of his own insignificance. How could he not when he was a mere curate, earning only fifty pounds a year? Edward well knew how fortunate he was to be living with the vicar, but also how precarious his own situation was. When the vicar died, and as an old man in a weakened state it was not inconceivable that he would die from even a relatively trifling illness, the living would go to someone else and Edward would need to find a new position on short notice.

Edward believed he had a more realistic view of how things worked in these environs, having been the curate here for more than a year, and what he and his brother could expect from life among the local residents. While his brother had better prospects for advancing in his chosen career, Frederick had not yet risen to a position that those on land would be impressed with. Too, they were not real gentlemen, at least not to someone like Sir Walter Elliot.

Edward had noticed the attractive and sweet Miss Anne. Miss Anne was not high and mighty like her older sister Miss Elliot. While when Edward first moved to Somersetshire to assume his post he had admired Miss Elliot from afar; it only took one brief exchange after they had been introduced by the vicar to quell any romantic inclination he had toward her as he quickly learned she felt herself insulted that he would dare to even converse with her. Edward had never even tried to speak with Sir Walter whose eyes drifted over him as if he did not even exist, or was or no more importance than livestock.

Edward had spoken with Miss Anne and noted her kindness to those around her but with a father such as she had he knew he could never get anywhere with her. Yes, Edward had a good sense of how Sir Walter Elliot would have reacted to his brother wanting to marry Sir Walter's daughter. Edward would never have been so bold.

So when his brother angrily packed and resolved to leave with the morning post, Edward could only conclude that whatever the inclinations of the daughter, his brother had been rebuffed by her father.

However, after Frederick left when Edward saw Miss Anne, it was clear that the matter was more complicated than Edward had at first believed. Though Anne did not request that he pass any message on to his brother, Edward resolved to at least mention how she had tried to call on Frederick in his next letter to his brother. There would have been no way to recall him regardless of what Edward might have wished. While Edward could write to Frederick in care of navy headquarters, such a letter was unlikely to reach its destination while he still did not know his brother's ship. Therefore, their usual practice when Frederick was to take a new post was to wait until Frederick wrote so that Edward could state in the address his brother's position and to which ship the missive needed to be directed. Additionally, even had he attempted that very day to send a letter to Frederick, and it somehow was properly directed, Frederick would likely be aboard a new ship and it could be months before he received Edward's letter, if ever. There was nothing to it but to wait until Frederick wrote to him.

When Frederick reached his destination and inquired about whether there were any ships then available for him to command, the navy officer in charge of such matters, a grizzly man with a pronounced limp laughingly inquired whether Frederick had lost all his funds to gambling, but seeing Frederick's dark look in response became more serious.

"There is only the Asp, but you will not be wanting her. Any little storm would sink her and she is not worth enough to the Navy for them to bother with repairing her. Two men have already deferred captaining her to await better prospects. Son, you should have saved your money, she could be the death of you."

While Frederick knew the man was referring to the Asp, he could well believe that Anne might as well have been the "she" the officer was referring to. He wished he had saved his money as if that had been the case he might have had something to settle on Anne to secure her future. And yes, when he accepted the Asp based on Anne's actions, it could well be the death of him if she was as bad as the officer had told him.

"I would like to see her," was Frederick's only response.

When he saw the sloop it was clear the officer was not exaggerating, however Frederick only responded, "She will do." He knew that if he could successfully captain her that she would be the making of him. If he could not, he would end up on the bottom of the ocean instead. Either way he would not be retrained from taking command of her. He did not let himself think about whether he would have turned down this command if still engaged to Anne. Everything had shifted since she rejected him and if he had arrived a month hence as expected it was likely that the Asp would no longer have been offered to him as sooner or later someone would have taken it.


	8. Chapter 8

**The Bible quotes are from KJV of Ecclesiastes: 1:2-3; 1:14; 4:8; 4:9-11; 9:9 and Song of Solomon 1:2.**

Frederick worked hard in his first command. He had achieved his first object of being at sea as soon as could be. The Asp was as tired and broken of a sloop as he had been warned, but he managed to assembly a credible crew with many privateers among them. When directed to the West Indies he knew the opportunity before him. If only he could capture an enemy vessel, he could begin to make his fortune. Luck was with him in that he never encountered any foul weather and managed to capture a French frigate with only the loss of one crew member and only glancing injuries to a handful of others, but even as he outwardly rejoiced his heart felt empty.

Frederick was not the sort of man who thought of God overmuch, but a phrase from the Bible played on and on in his head as he considered his achievements. It must have been something that perhaps his brother Edward had said in one of his sermons. He could not recall what book it was from, but it felt apt to him in that moment. The phrase was, "All is vanity." Frederick knew that he had achieved far more than any had expected of him in such a short amount of time, but it felt meaningless. Even when given the Laconia in recognition for his achievements with the Asp, and the Laconia was a fine vessel which he had every reason to believe would profit him far more than the Asp, he did not know what it was for. What was the point of increasing his fortune two times, ten times, one hundred times? What was the point if he could never earn Anne?

Frederick found himself one day, when all was calm and he was alone in his cabin, seeking in a copy of the Bible he had borrowed from the ship's surgeon the phrase that played on and on in his head. The surgeon was not an especially pious man but knew that injured and dying men sometimes felt comfort in the words of the Bible and became familiar enough with it that he could find those parts that could speak to a man desperate for hope or salvation.

The book in which Frederick's phrase was found was not one of those books, but it was familiar enough to the surgeon that he had been able to tell Frederick, "Look in Ecclesiastes."

Frederick had taken the surgeon's Bible and then found other things to do. As he had no current patients with anything much the matter with them, the surgeon had not yet asked for its return.

However, after yet another battle in which he and his crew had emerged triumphant and richer by the capture of another ship, when all the tasks that must be undertaken in the aftermath of such an occurrence were complete and none needed him anymore that evening, Frederick retired to his cabin and decided that now was as good a time as any to read.

As it was growing dark, Frederick lit his oil lamp, turned to Ecclesiastes and began to read. Almost immediately he found the phrase that was forever being recited in his head. Then he read on about "What profit hath a man of all his labour which he taketh under the sun?" and read about the man laboring and all he builds with his wealth.

When he reached the sentence, "For whom do I labour, and bereave my soul of good?" Frederick read it several times, pondering. He thought to himself, I would labor for you Anne, but you will not have it. Yet what is the point of my laboring if I do not then earn you?

He then read, "Two are better than one; because they have a good reward for their labour. For if they fall, the one will lift up his fellow: but woe to him that is alone when he falleth; for he hath not another to help him up. Again, if two lie together, then they have heat: but how can one be warm alone?" While he knew this part was about having the companionship and help of his fellow man (which he had in abundance on his ship), the only companion he desired in that moment was Anne. If only she was now his wife and beside him in his bed, he could have her heat and not be all alone.

Frederick closed the Bible then and tried to sleep, but he felt very lonely just then, lonely and bereft.

The following day he read on and happily found little to remind him of Anne in the different vanities until he came to, "Live joyfully with the wife whom thou lovest all the days of the life of thy vanity . . . for that is thy portion in this life." Frederick thought to himself, where is my portion, where is my wife? He resolved himself that once he was on shore again he would seek out a wife. While he could not have Anne, did that mean that he could never find any joy in a wife.

When Frederick concluded reading Ecclesiastes, he saw that the next book was Song of Solomon. His eyes glanced at the first lines before he resolutely closed the Bible. He could not bear to read words such as, "Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth: for thy love is better than wine." He already knew what was missing and reading about the fulfillment that could be had but was not for him would only make him bitter.

Before he blew out his lamp, he pulled out a well worn copy of a letter from his brother Edward. It was the first letter he had received back from him after Frederick had written to him to inform him that he had command of the Asp. There was one particular paragraph Frederick had read again and again until the words were burned in his head. There was no real need for him to read those sentences again as he had them memorized, but once again Frederick read them:

 _Not two hours after you left, Miss Anne Elliot came to the vicarage seeking you. She must have been walking quite rapidly as if she had urgent business for her face was quite flushed and she had barely greeted me before she asked whether you were awake as she needed to speak with you. I of course informed her of your departure and at those words she looked very sad and said, perhaps more to herself than to me, "I thought there was more time; I did not want it to end like this." I offered to pass on a message from her when I should next write to you, but she refused. I know not what has passed between you, but I venture there is still hope if some day you choose to seek her out again. I make you the same offer I made her. If you have a message you should like me to pass to her, you may always enclose it care of me. I hate to see you both unhappy as neither of you deserve it._

Frederick had not taken his brother up on his offer. It had crossed his mind several times that having earned a few thousand pounds and having a posting where now he could have a wife aboard that he could write to Anne and perhaps he was now of sufficient consequence that she would relent. She would be one and twnety now, so her father's and godmother's opposition would be of less import now. However, Frederick had no wish to be vulnerable, to have his heart crushed again and so he had delayed doing so.

Now it was too late to send such a message. Edward's last letter had informed him that the vicar he was the curate for had died and he was obliged to seek a new position. Edward had written that he had departed Monkford for a position two counties away. Frederick now knew, though he had always resolved against writing Anne through his brother, that once the opportunity was fully lost to him, that he should have written to Anne.


	9. Chapter 9

**My current plan is to post at least once a week.**

Edward was worried about both Frederick and Miss Anne when neither of them took him up on his offer to facilitate their communications. However Edward thought, falsely it turned out, that Frederick was simply waiting to earn prize money to improve his consequence. Then when he read Frederick's letter about the capture of the French frigate, Edward thought Frederick was merely waiting to gain a worthy ship before enlisting his help. When Edward read Frederick's account about gaining command of the Laconia, he thought this latest achievement should have been more than enough to give Frederick the confidence to seek to renew whatever understanding he had with Miss Anne before. But this latest letter yet again did not even mention her.

Edward could not understand why his brother did not act. Edward was not sure what the exact status of what his brother's relationship with Miss Anne was before it ended, but he was certain from many signs both obvious and subtle that Frederick had been in love and fallen quite hard. Frederick's unwillingness to speak about it only showed how deeply his heart was engaged.

Edward remembered similar signs in his sister Sophia regarding Captain Croft sooner after they met. She had a special smile that graced her face and her tone of voice was somehow softened when she spoke of him.

Sophia was introduced to Captain Croft in the year 1799 by their father, Captain Thomas Wentworth, when both men were ashore while repairs were made to their ships. Their mother had taken their family to visit their father (minus Frederick who at sixteen was a midshipman on a frigate); Edward remembered knowing his father more from his letters than from his infrequent visits home. Through his letters, which their mother read aloud over and over, they had become familiar with many of his naval friends. They first heard of Captain Croft when he was Lieutenant Croft, serving under their father. Apparently at the same time, their father was telling him about his family, including his pretty daughter.

Sophia, like Frederick, at the age of three and twenty, pursued what she wanted with a single-minded determination. Thus, having noted that Captain Croft's fine character was united with a handsome visage and keen mind, she made plain her desire to know him better and it was not long before she garnered Captain Croft's attention, affection and love. However she never spoke of her hopes until Captain Croft proposed (which occurred only about twenty days after they first met) and they had set a date for their wedding. It was perhaps a form of superstition to not speak directly about the thing most desired until its fulfillment was certain.

While Edward could not see Frederick's face to see how he now fared, Edward fancied that Frederick's letters since leaving were entirely too cheerful. While Edward knew that Frederick was not a man to whine or complain, the cheer he expressed felt false. While Edward knew that Frederick could not help but be pleased to gain an initial command, gain prize money and to now be captaining such a fine vessel, his brother typically had a rather calm tone in his letter writing and was usually the sort whose happiness was understated in his written word and facial expressions, though Edward had seen rather fierce and happy expressions on his face on occasion. Fierce when he declared his plan to depart from Monkford in the morning and happy in the days before whenever he mentioned Anne Elliot.

In the same time period in which Frederick and Edward were exchanging letters while Edward was still a curate in Monkford, Miss Anne and Edward had formed a sort of friendship for which Miss Anne was the instigator. It seemed that she could not help but seek Edward out and then make little inquiries that sooner or later would lead back to Frederick. And so Edward found himself sharing news of Frederick and his triumphs with her. He could tell based on comment she made, that she had a naval list and was keeping track as well as she could of all of Frederick's movements.

On one occasion, when they met while Anne was out walking, Anne asked about his sister saying, "I have heard your sister accompanies her husband aboard his ship. What sort of life is that for your sister?"

Edward knew perfectly well that Miss Anne could only have heard such a thing from Frederick. He wondered, beyond opposition from her father, whether worries about what a naval wife might experience had dissuaded her. Thus Edward did his best to express exactly what his sister had written to him about her experiences (which was rather different from what his own mother had experienced as a naval wife).

Anne seemed to drink in every detail, her eyes growing bright the more he explained. She inquired, "Was Mrs. Croft indeed aboard Captain Croft's ship during battle?"

"Yes," Edward explained, "but not when Captain Croft thought battle likely. If he knew before a voyage that such was anticipated or their mission, my sister lived ashore. However for missions more associated with trade and general protection of the empire, she was always aboard. That did not mean battles did not occur on occasion, however."

"What did she do when aboard if a battle took place?"

Edward laughed, visualizing quite vividly how such had occurred from his sister's letters and her and her husband's accounts in person. "The first time a conflict with another ship was anticipated, Captain Croft ordered her to go below to their cabin. Apparently she complied with his order against her will, however with every volley, cry and crash became more perturbed with her location below."

"Perturbed that she might be harmed?" She questioned. "Was that location not fairly safe?"

"Perturbed that she was entirely useless below. She was as safe as the captain's cabin could be made, with special reinforcements Captain Croft had added to it. Finally Sophia recalled that there might be injured crew members and set about converting some cloth she planned to make into a dress into strips for bandages. Then once the fighting ceased, Sophia was back above aiding by bandaging the men. They may not have liked wearing calico, but they could not object to the manner of care they received from their captain's wife."

Edward grinned, both from visualizing burly sailors with calico bandages with delicate flower prints and anticipating the next part of the story. He could not help but also see how Miss Anne waited impatiently for him to continue.

"The next time, in anticipation of a confrontation with two French vessels, when Captain Croft ordered her below she refused. While he growled about insubordination and his fears for her well being in seeing all the cruel realities of battle, she was determined that she should stay above where she might be of some use. While naval battle is in a way cleaner as your enemies are not hacking away at you directly with a saber at close range, seeing injuries as they are inflicted and fearing that they may occur to you as well is not what many ladies can rightly face. However, my sister is not an ordinary woman but rather a most reasonable and rational one. Once it was clear to Captain Croft that he could not dissuade Sophy, he let her be and focused on organizing the men for the confrontation. She kept herself low as the ships exchanged volleys, but was quick to spring into action to help in any way she could. I heard tell from Captain Croft (though he did not see it himself) that she actually dragged a man from a section of the ship that caught on fire and used her skirts to smother the flames that were still licking at his clothes and received for her trouble a few burns herself."

"How terrifying, but how brave, too," Miss Anne remarked.

"She said she never had any idea she was in danger aboard any of his ships, but felt the danger to her husband most keenly when she wintered by herself at Deal while Captain Croft was in the North Seas. She said she suffered perpetual fright for his well being."

That was to be the last conversation of any depth that Edward exchanged with Miss Anne as two days later the vicar suddenly sickened and died, and Edward had to find a new position in short order. Fortunately he found one in Shropshire but unfortunately that put to an end any chance of facilitation a reunion between Frederick and Miss Anne.

Stymied about what to do, Edward resolved that once he was settled in his new situation, he would write to Sophy about Frederick's and Miss Anne's situation. Although she had never observed Frederick's demeanor regarding Miss Anne, as while Frederick was staying with Edward she and Captain Croft were out of England on a foreign station, surely she might have a good perspective as to what if anything ought to be done.

Meanwhile, after each new crumb of information about Frederick had been gleaned, Anne recorded it in her journal along with questions. After learning about his posting to the Laconia she wrote, "Year 8, Frederick is now captain of the Laconia and I am one and twenty. I see nothing now that stands between us but his failure to renew his intentions with me. I am given to understand that he had some time ashore before he took this post. It is not right that as a woman I am required to live at home, quiet and confined, with no profession (such as Frederick has to take him back to the world) to distract me from my feelings. My love is as strong as it was when I accepted your offer, stronger even for learning more about you through your brother. Frederick, I await you, I always await you. How must longer must I wait? I grow weary of it all."

After learning that Edward was departing, she wrote, "Now that your brother will be gone, how can I go on? I have lived upon those slight bits of your life I have learned about through your brother. All that remains is the navy lists. All that remains are my feelings that I wrap around me like a blanket. Why must I go on waiting? Will I wait my whole life?"


	10. Chapter 10

Anne kept going through the motions with her life, all the while feeling removed from any true concern in the things that happened around her. Sometime it felt as if she was looking at her own life through a deep tunnel, or glimpsing a reflection of it from a distorted mirror. She felt very little attachment to those who should mean the most to her; they were as simple acquaintances. Though she said and did all the right things, it felt like her life should belong to someone else. If she were more like her sister Elizabeth or her sister Mary, maybe she would fit better in her own life. In some ways she wished she was more like them as maybe then Lady Russel would leave her to her own devices, would not try to engage her in things and make her care.

There was one small seed of brightness in her life. A way she could plan and prepare for the future that would never likely be hers. She remembered Frederick telling her that once aboard his ship as his wife, he hoped she would nurse any injured or ill men. She noted that in Mr. Wentworth's recitation of what Mrs. Croft's life was like aboard her husband's ship that Mrs. Croft tended to the wounded after a battle. Anne determined that she would do all she could to learn this art.

It was not easy to pursue this goal. While there were certainly women who served as nurses, they were highly unlikely to be members of her social class and, if perchance there were a few hardy individuals of her class that humbled themselves in such a way, their lives were not ruled by those who would never approve of such activities.

Anne started small. When her sister Mary returned from completing her schooling, she again began suffering from many imaginary ailments. Sometimes Anne could comfort her simply by tending to her, but when that was not enough they sent for the apothecary. When Mr. Robinson visited, Anne first carefully observed all he did and the later began questioning him about his knowledge. It seemed that he was visiting at least once a week, each time bringing draughts for Mary's various ailments. While Mr. Robinson answered her questions, she had the sense that her questions bothered him but could not tell why. Finally, his exasperation spilled out when he was treating her sister for once again one of her imagined ailments, though he said nothing until she walked with him to the front door.

"May I have a word with you, Miss Anne?" He gestured with his head to the outer doors of Kellynch Hall.

"Certainly," Anne responded, finally raised from her apathy (though she was not apathetic when trying to learn his medicinal secrets) by some genuine curiosity.

Once they were both outside, Mr. Robinson (who was not a young man and rather grizzled and arthritic) paced back and forth a few times energetically before beginning. "Do you want to know why your sister is not better?" He questioned sternly. "There is nothing the matter with her that any of my draughts can cure. I used to treat her imagined symptoms with the appropriate medicines but it was all for naught. Now I only give her true medication when I see indications besides her described symptoms that confirm to me she is actually ill. I try to discourage her behavior by preparing the nastiest concoctions I can make that have the least ill-effects, which are equivalent to foods. Then I give her every sympathy and take joy in the fact that she will willingly drink such brews and I can charge money for these draughts as I cannot for my services. I believe I should be paid for the time my attention takes, if not for my (in this case) sham medicines. But you, Miss Anne," he pointed his finger accusingly at her, "you are too sharp by half. I believe you already know all of his. Why can you just not let me be? Dismiss me if you want, I am not sure the remuneration I receive is worth the aggravation, but please stop hounding me about everything."

Anne colored. She had not thought how her questioning of the apothecary would seem to him. She regretted that due to their relative stations in life he had apparently been suffering for months under this misapprehension but could not bring it to her attention.

"Mr. Robinson you misunderstand my purposes completely, though as I have not been forthright about them that is hardly your fault. I regret that I have caused you such frustration. Yes, I know that all of my sister's illnesses are imagined. While I did not know that the draughts you give Mary have no true medicinal value, your purpose in giving them to her does seem proper under these circumstances and I have no objection to you continuing to do so. If I believe she is actually ill, I will do my best to inform you of that so you can treat her properly. I simply wish to gain more knowledge of your profession and glean what details I can that would be helpful if I needed to treat someone who truly had an illness."

He looked at her curiously, "Why should the daughter of a baronete want such knowledge? You shall never lack the money to pay another to distill such concoctions."

"I . . . I would prefer not to say," Anne choked out. "However, there are remote locations where such knowledge could prove valuable."

He considered. "I have an apprentice that I pass on my knowledge to, but he pays for that knowledge by assisting me in my shop, though I pay him for his labor as well. You could not work for me, should not even be here out alone talking to me. I would be willing to pass on my skills for a fee if we could determine a way for me to train you which did not breach proprieties."

"I would be most grateful," Anne responded.

Mr. Robinson considered further. "I know that at times you visit the poorer families of the parish. Do you suppose when you are doing so you could come by my home after you visit Widow Munro? My wife and her mother are almost always home."

Anne was pleased with the suggestion. They negotiated a price and time, and he instructed Anne to bring a journal to record what she learned.

They then discussed what she knew. He asked, "Do you have any skill in the still room? I would like a measure of where we should start."

Anne did not, so he told her that this was where they would start, with the earlier lessons in this to be given by his wife.

When Anne wrote in her journal that night she wrote, "I am finally doing something to learn to aid Captain Wentworth's crew and shall have my first lesson with the Robinsons on the morrow. I cannot start with learning about his apothecary work until I learn still room work, however doing something, anything, is better than standing still."


	11. Chapter 11

**For a more information on laudanum and the anecdote I borrowed, see museumofhealthcare dot wordpress dot com/2015/07/20/laudanum-freedom-from-pain-for-the-price-of-addiction/ For a fascinating account of the origins of Gowland's Lotion, see theinvisiblefaces dot blogspot dot com /2015/05/john-gowland-apothecary-and-impromptu dot html**

During the following year Anne regained a bit of her vigor, if not her vivacity, through the pursuit of medicinal lore. The Robinsons were indeed skilled and Anne found much to admire about them both. She had never before realized how much went into preparing medicines. Many of the medicinal plants were grown in their very own garden and distilled by Mrs. Robinson in their still room. The recipes of how these concoctions were assembled was knowledge that was passed from apothecary to apothecary, though Mr. Robinson said that there was still room for improvement in each generation.

Anne was a quick study and within three months of lessons had already learned the proper ways to distill all the medicinal plants that were grown locally, as well as how to test whether one that another had distilled was as advertised, though Mr. Robinson had cautioned her that it was risky to test medicine from an untried source. Her little volume of notes had soon come to be filled and she was currently on her third volume.

She was glad for her meticulous notes as Mr. Robinson often did not recall what he had and had not instructed her on. Thus, when he again cautioned her most vigorously about laudanum, while she listened attentively she knew she need not make a complete set of new notes on the topic, though she did jot down a bit of additional information he imparted on her.

"While it has much value, Miss Anne, especially to those dying or in grievous pain, as well as some intestinal issues, it is all too easy for someone with only slight pain to continue to demand it long after the cure has been effected. Other apothecaries might simply sell it in their shops to whomever might desire it, but I find this to be a serious error. I dislike selling most of my cures without examining the patient to see what truly ails him. While concoctions for coughs and sore throats are harmless enough, little else should be sold without a consultation. I also do not like to sell more than what might be used up during a current course of illness and I even offer a slight discount on their accounts if they bring back the empty dispenser. Perhaps you might have heard the report of an infant who was given but one drop by his parents for teething and died. The error was not the dosage, but that through time and evaporation the little left in the bottle was likely pure opium."

The Robinsons quickly became Anne'a one example of marital felicity. While they might tease each other and vigorously debate the merits of certain approaches to the preparation of various brews, it was clear that they had a deep and abiding love for one another. Anne grew quite fond of them both. In physical characteristics they were an odd sort of match, with Mr. Robinson being quite tall and stout, while Mrs. Robinson was barely bigger than a child and quite thin. He could be gruff when frustrated while she was almost universally sweet and even tempered, with a high piping voice that seemed more fit for a bird than a woman. They had no children but seemed to be entirely content in each other's company.

The Robinsons, too, appreciated Anne. On more than one occasion, Mr. Robinson bemoaned the lackadaisical approach of his cousin, apprentice and presumptive successor. "Do you know, Miss Anne, that in the year you have studied with us that you have learned more than Henry in his nine years working for me? I have no hesitation in telling you that if you were a man and in a position in life to be an apothecary, that I would gladly make you my apprentice and send my cousin home."

During her current visit, she met with both of the Robinsons. Mr. Robinson told her on the previous occasion that he planned to teach her more about advertisements and how to exercise caution. Thus, she was not at all surprised that when he began such a lesson.

He explained, "Be cautious of claims others make for what their medicine can do. There are many a formulation that only serves to separate customers from their coin. While my father in general only administered true medicines, I have concluded that at least two formulas I was made privy to in my training by him were complete hogwash. The freckle remover and skin purifier was complete nonsense and if I am not mistaken the current Gowland's Lotion may contain the same formulation. Mrs. Robinson, will you give me permission to tell of your encounter with the stuff?"

Mrs. Robinson answered, "Yes, Mr. Robinson, but only if afterward I get to tell my own tale about you!"

"You may my dear and then, perhaps Miss Anne will see how foolish the two of us, who should know better, can be. Do you know that my own sweet wife, before she was so savvy, bought some Gowland's Lotion while visiting family in London? She was impressed, you see, by the reports of her aunt on how effective it was, and the exclusive nature of the shop which sold it. Mrs. Robinson was forced to confess to me of her error when her face became afflicted with irritated bumps. I noticed upon examination of the stuff that there was a distinctive odor to it that made me believe that its underlying ingredient was the very same as in the formula that I refuse to sell (and which incidentally seems to cause an allergic reaction in my Mary). She was soon put to right once I threw the bottle out, though she was aggrieved that she had spent so dearly for it. You see, the current Gowland's Lotion is not the same formulation which made apothecary John Gowland famous when he concocted it as a cure for the complexion of Princess Augusta's maid. Instead, the current version is a formula distributed by his successor's wife, Marie Elizabeth Vincent, who claimed to have obtained the secret formula but had instead made a clever counterfeit from that passed on to her husband, Thomas Vincent."

Mr. Robinson shook his head and sighed before adding, "It is a sad matter how the two versions of the lotion were advertised by competing shops and a pity that Mr. Gowland did not see the folly in bequeathing the formula to an oboist. Mrs. Vincent won out."

"Did the original Gowland's Lotion work?" Anne, who was intrigued, inquired.

"Never for curing freckles, though it did strip off the paint some ladies use on their faces most effectively and perhaps diminished freckles which have darkened from the sun, as it removes the top layer of one's skin. I would never recommend anything for your skin, Miss Anne, but perhaps a dab of sweet olive oil as my Mary uses should it grow dry in the winter."

"Mr. Robinson, do not try to get us on the cures for dry skin. It is my turn to show Miss Anne how foolish a man can be for his vanity. Unlike my trying of the lotion on the recommendation of my aunt, Mr. Robinson relied on a formula his father taught him."

"Can you guess what cure I might have sought?" Mr. Robinson inquired, with a gleam of glee in his eye.

"I certainly cannot."

"Are you certain Miss Anne?" He bent quite low and gestured to the large bald spot on the top of his head.

"Mr. Robinson, for shame, stealing my story! My Elias was determined to always have a full head of hair and faithfully applied his father's formula for hair elixir for many a year, even though he continued to grow thin on top. Yet he still had me distill it year after year. I began to grow quite disgusted with the whole matter and decided to attempt an experiment. I kept the more pleasant elements, the bit of honey and mint, and replaced the key ingredient with another. I then told him I had believed I had come up with a superior method of distillation and was sure this would be even more effective than before. Well my Eli kept pouring over his scalp in our mirror and imagining that he saw new hairs a sprouting. He used up the full bottle and demanded I make more. I was forced to confess my subterfuge, but never underestimate the value of hope in making someone quite convinced that something you have administered has effected a cure."

"Yes, I was a right fool," Mr. Robinson confessed, chuckling a bit. "That hair elixir was completely ineffective. While it might be of some use in styling one's hair and had a pleasant odor, as far as I can tell," he said pointing to his own pate, "it has no true value besides depriving my fellow bald-headed men of their coin. I had to stop selling the stuff, as I am an advertisement to it not working."

It was a true testament to her growing closeness with the Robinsons that they now had no hesitation in being lighthearted around her. Mr. Robinson jokingly told her, "Miss Anne, if you were to so much as hint that you would only consent to marry a man with a full head of hair, I could peddle this stuff by the gallon. The local men would be lined up dozens deep. Ah, but there only seems to be one man with eyes for the fair Miss Anne, the younger Mr. Charles Musgrove, and unlike his father he still has a head full of hair."

Anne blushed and then inquired of them both, "Do you truly think he admires me?"

Anne had danced with Mr. Charles once time at each of the last three assemblies (just as he had with her elder sister) and he had called on them both with his mother, but she had not noticed any particular admiration from him toward her. At one time she thought he admired her older sister Elizabeth, but if he had Elizabeth was quick to quell such interest. Elizabeth was holding out for someone of higher consequence than the younger Mr. Charles Musgrove, who only stood to inherit Uppercross, and if Elizabeth had not yet found him in her frequent forays to London with their father (and Anne privately thought she looked too high from all that Anne could gather of the matter), Elizabeth had not yet given up her ambition.

Anne thought any friendliness between Mr. Charles and herself was largely derived from the fact that they were both relatively good humored and their relative positions in society and general proximity, rather than any affinity between them. She found him pleasant enough, but he had made but little attempt to develop his mind and while generally attractive, he was nothing to Frederick in all essentials.

Mrs. Robinson took one of Anne's hands and held it between her two smaller ones, and earnestly looked up in her eyes. "Dearie, he has done nothing but admire you since your sister showed her disinterest. He is a good enough man, you could well do worse."

"I . . . he is nothing to me. I do not plan to marry." Anne's eyes suddenly grew thick with unshed tears. She hated crying in front of others as she feared she was about to do and so silently pleaded for Mrs. Robinson to let the matter lie. However, her sudden vulnerability only seemed to spur Mrs. Robinson to continue.

"Why ever not?" Mrs. Robinson took a step in to Anne, looking at her so sweetly, a sort of living cherub, that Anne wondered how she would ever be able to not cry and not confide in her. "Are you in truth pining over some mystery man who is as of now very far from home? Eli and I have been speculating about the matter. He thinks you are in love with a missionary and hope to aid him in curing the natives of their jungle diseases as a way to bring them to God, while my theory is that he is a retired officer from his Majesty's Army, recuperating in Bath with some malady which you hope to alleviate enough for him to abandon his vow not to marry."

"No, neither," Anne muttered before the threatened tears spilled down her face.

"Come with me, dear," Mrs. Robinson gently steered her out of the still room, through the kitchen and into her attached parlor, "Mr. Robinson never knows how to react to tears that do not relate to his patients relatives being told bad news. He has good words rehearsed for such occasions, but none for heartbreak."

So Anne found herself in Mrs. Robinson's tiny parlor filling many a hanky with her tears and snot, while telling Mrs. Robinson about how happy Anne had been with Frederick and how it was she who at the instigation of her godmother caused their separation. Mrs. Robinson was everything good and kind and Anne felt yet again (though these feelings were surely unworthy), that her godmother did not understand the first thing about her if she could believe that separating herself from Frederick was a good thing.

After Anne's tale was concluded, and her tears dried, Mrs. Robinson offered her compassion and, Anne felt, true understanding, "Dear Miss Anne, what a heartbreak you have had and how loyal you are still, trying to prepare for the role he planned for you. From everything you have told me, I cannot imagine that all hope is lost. It is just a matter of waiting for Captain Wentworth to come to his senses and renew his addresses. All of Lady Russell's previous objections have lessened with the improvement of his position and you surely know your heart."

"It felt like all I was doing was waiting," Anne confessed, "but it has been so difficult to be stuck in one place, all of my hope hinging on his deciding to act. I thought, at least if I prepared for the role he imagined for me that I was in some way beckoning him hither."

"I understand," Mrs. Robinson told her, "you are a romantic and a practical woman all wrapped up in one. It is a lovely gesture you are making so that if he does return you will be ready to aid him and his crew to the best of your ability. Now that we know what your goal is, there is much more we can teach you. You can learn about setting bones, more specifics about storing medication for those conditions, and even how to tend to deep wounds with the limited resources you can bring with you. I would also advise you get some learning from the midwife. There are brews she knows to prevent a woman from becoming with child which might prove valuable to someone in your situation. She can also teach you about the delivery of babies and how she instructed her own young daughter in what to do when the midwife herself was to deliver her fourth child and her aunt who was to attend the birth was called away when her son was injured. If you had to travail aboard a ship you might be instructing your own husband on how to catch your own baby."

That evening Anne wrote in her journal, _I do not know whether you would approve, but I told Mrs. Robinson about you. I am glad that I did. Although she is just as uncertain as I about whether you will return, I can now do my best to be fully prepared to aid your crew should you come. Now that she knows the reason why I have sought such training, she and her husband will teach me more specific skills most suited to a nurse aboard a ship. She has also advised me as to what knowledge I should seek from the midwife that might pertain to a woman at sea without other women to assist her. When you come for me, as you must if your heart contains even a tenth of the longing for me that mine has for you, I will be ready. I am yours for the asking; I shall accept no other._


	12. Chapter 12

When the younger Charles Musgrove proposed Anne was glad she had been forewarned by the Robinsons of his admiration. Although in recent weeks she had gently tried to discourage him, she had come to believe he was determined to ask anyway. Thus when he joined her on a walk (Anne was walking more than anytime prior in her life as that was the only way to see the Robinsons which would not garner anyone's attention as no one in her family cared what she did as long as they were not inconvenienced and they would only potentially be inconvenienced if she took one of the carriages and had discovered to her delight that frequent constitutionals had improved her stamina and sleep at night), she had a feeling the moment had come and determined to spare his feelings as much as possible, as she genuinely liked him and did not want to cause him pain.

Mr. Charles paused and turned toward Anne, taking her right gloved hand from his left arm and holding it with his right. "Dear Miss Anne, I have been enjoying your company these last months. During this time I have come to love you. Would you consent to be my wife?"

She saw a look of hope in his eye, but not much other emotion. She could not help but find his tepid proposal nothing to the other proposal she had received three years prior.

She told him gently, "Good and kind as you are, Mr. Charles, my heart is not able to give you the love a wife should give to a husband."

"Miss Anne, are you still mourning your mother or perhaps the loss of another?" And then not giving her time to answer, added, "If that be the case, is it not better to be comforted when in pain than to bear it alone?"

Anne was struck by his perception and compassion. She wondered if he had seen her with then Commander Wentworth now three years past, or had noted that she did not react as happily as most women did when being informally courted, but it did not change her answer.

"Mr. Charles, while you are a fine person and one I would be most obliged to call a friend, I cannot give you the answer you want. However, I certainly feel a familial affiliation toward you. Perhaps I may be your sister someday."

Realizing he might be thinking she was suggesting Elizabeth for him, she added, "Please consider my sister Mary when she comes home from school and formally comes out. I think you might suit; she has been admiring you for many a year and waiting to grow up for you."

This last part was a bit embellished. Mary had noticed Mr. Charles at church and at one point had commented on him being "quite a handsome man" to Anne and seemed pleased when Anne mentioned that he was the heir to Uppercross and yet unmarried. Anne had noticed that when in they were in a room together that Mary's eyes sought Mr. Charles out, but as she was not "out" yet, Mary had barely exchanged two words with him. Whether Mary thought about Mr. Charles at all while away at school or even remembered him at all was not a matter Anne could determine. Her sister never mentioned him in letters but then her letters were so devoted to minute descriptions of her ailments, she hardly talked about anyone but herself.

However, of the men available nearby, Mr. Charles was certainly the finest and his good humor could only bring out more of the same in her sister, and more importantly Anne trusted that he would treat her sister well and her sister's future would be secure. She did not think Mary had some hidden trove of passion ready to be applied to a deep and abiding love. Anne believed that a pleasant marriage was probably the best that Mary could do and that Mr. Charles could give it to her. That was really all Anne wanted for Mary and was probably all Mary wanted for herself.

Mr. Charles's expression was pained. "Perhaps, but first I must mourn what is not to be." He kissed her gloved hand and then made a little bow. "I hope the rest of your day is pleasant," he added, "but it seems I cannot continue to escort you home as I have no business there today."

From that she gathered that he had been certain of his reception and had planned to go straight away from gaining it, to seeking out her father. Instead he was fleeing her company rather quickly.

While Anne regretted any pain she was causing Mr. Charles, she could not regret her answer. Additionally while Anne believed that he might regard her with pleasure and genuinely esteem her, she did not believe he actually loved her despite his words. She had sensed no strong passion in their interaction so how could he have any unrequited love for her? Anne believed that a mutuality of feelings was necessary for a vigorous love to bloom and grow; all she had given Mr. Charles was friendship. Additionally, Mr. Charles's presence of mind in how he treated her after she refused him bespoke of no great passion lurking beneath his breast.

That evening before going to bed, she dwelled on memories of Frederick's proposal, which were still etched deeply in her mind, like a knife digging into flesh, while Mr. Charles's proposal was like a light line of chalk on the skin, right before one washes it off. She remembered running beside Frederick as he pulled her along and hid them safe from prying eyes behind the oak tree where their exchanged kisses were fervent. She remembered the flood of sensations which awakened parts of her that before that she did not know had such a purpose, and wanting more than anything to be closer to him still and the disappointment she felt when Frederick's lips left hers, though his words in asking for her hand were almost as delightful as his kisses. The oak tree was witness to it all and even now when she passed that tree, a bit misshapen from the recent breakage of a damaged limb, it always brought a heightened color to her face. She hoped the tree would continue to grow more mighty still and some day the new limbs it would sprout would completely mask the earlier damage. However, when she was feeling the least hopeful about her future with Frederick, she would imagine the oak's exterior hid a decaying core and one day she would find it toppled over after a storm.

Anne did her best to avoid thinking about Frederick's response when she had taken it all back and was for the most part successful as Mr. Charles's reaction was not even an echo or reflection of the hurt her Frederick had displayed when she rejected him.

That night she wrote: _Mr. Charles Muskgrove, the younger, proposed to me today. Frederick, there is no need to be angry, of course I refused him. While a kind man, he simply cannot compare to you. Frederick, though you might never come for me, I cannot bear the thought of having another man kiss me. It is abhorrent. I cannot imagine having to tolerate his touch when I long for yours. I cannot bear another man's children. It would be an abomination, a twisting of the love I hold so dear. I will stay in the state that God has placed me, single and a maiden, until all hope is lost with either your death or your marriage, or if neither should occur while I yet live, I shall remain this way until my last breath. Please do not make me wait a lifetime. Three years is already too long.  
_


	13. Chapter 13

Meanwhile, there was a slow exchange of information between Edward Wentworth and his sister Sophia Croft. It was perhaps inevitable that there would be some delay compared to a face-to-face conversation, simply in delivery by post, however getting post to a ship could cause a lengthy delay. If a letter did not make it onto the packet boat, it could be some time before the next packet boat would be dispersed.

So quite a bit of time elapsed from when Edward Wentworth first wrote to his sister Sophia Croft about his suspicions that Frederick was too cheerful and why he believed it might be false cheer based on his limited knowledge of what had transpired between their brother Frederick and Miss Anne Elliot, as supported by his recounting of their behavior to him, and Mrs. Croft's reply. She wrote to add her own observations from Frederick's correspondence and to gain clarification on a couple of points. After Mr. Wentworth provided his clarifications, then Mrs. Croft asked what he had tried to facilitate a rekindling of the connection and here Mr. Wentworth was obliged to reveal that neither party excepted his office as a go-between, though Miss Anne always seemed eager to gain such intelligence as he could offer. However, any progress made in this respect was arrested when he was obliged to seek a new post and leave her society.

All told, what perhaps could have been worked out in a simple conversation or two, took nearly two years. However, the resolution of that was that Sophia Croft, if happening to be at the same port as Frederick, would endeavor to find out whether Frederick was indeed mourning an aborted engagement to Miss Anne Elliot and if she could determine it was so, would try to encourage him when next he had leave to seek Miss Anne out and try again.

This plan was quite perfected and only required an appropriate occasion for enacting it, when Sophia received another letter from Edward with a new development in giving him more recent knowledge regarding the occupants of Kellynch Hall from a most unexpected source. There was a certain person who had taken a personal interest in the happiness of Miss Anne Elliot and had determined that a correspondence with her former fiance's brother might be of use in furthering the association he knew Miss Anne longed for. Thus armed with additional intelligence, Sophia knew just what to do when the opportunity should present itself.

Luck smiled upon them then as it was not two months later, at the beginning of the year 11 that Captain Wentworth's and Captain Croft's ships were both being resupplied at the same port. Captain Croft, who of course knew of his wife's plans, was happy to invite his brother by marriage to dine with them and she was content to begin the evening by hearing her husband and brother regale her with exaggerated tales from the latest campaigns. Sophia was skilled at being patient and waiting for the most opportune moment.

Sophia observed that her brother seemed to be endeavoring to be lively, but observed a few brief unguarded moments in which his lips sagged and his eyes glistened with extra wetness, but those moments were so transient that she would have doubted the veracity of her observation if not for the information she received from Edward's letters. Sophia watched and waited for the right moment. The wine was freely pouring and she saw her brother becoming more relaxed and a bit looser of tongue, when she decided to set her trap. Being an elder sister, and never having had the opportunity to see her younger brother in love, she could not resist needling him a bit.

"Perhaps you have heard from our brother Edward that he has kept up a correspondence with a denizen from his previous post."

Frederick said nothing but sat up a little, finally stating, "What is it to me who he corresponds with there? I was only with him nigh on six months and those that were there were not much more than indifferent acquaintances."

"Perhaps the local apothecary was beneath your notice," Sophia commented, "though Edward and Mr. Robinson often had notice of one another when Edward cared for an ill person's soul while Mr. Robinson ministered to his body.

"I am more liberal than most in considering each man's individual worth," said he. "I do not particularly recall the man, however. I hope, though, that Mr. Robinson did not communicate some misfortune of health to the local populous which would require my brother to pray for the families of the newly departed."

"If he did, I did not hear tell of that. He simply had news regarding an anticipated marriage between the young Mr. Muskgrove, heir to Uppercross, and a young lady from the most prominent family in the area."

Frederick tried to look disinterested. "It is nothing to me," he announced, "though I suppose as you brought it up, you desire to communicate it to me."

"I have no interest in this particular piece of gossip except in how it may affect my brother," said she. Sophia waited. If Frederick truly had no interest, she would let him turn the subject.

"I suppose Miss Elliot, Miss Elizabeth Elliot has finally settled for a non-noble husband," he opined with a slight grimace. "I fancy Edward was a bit sweet on her, though she would take no notice of him."

"Mr. Muskgrove did offer for one of the Miss Elliots, but I do not believe her name was Miss Elizabeth. As I recall it was one with a shorter name."

Frederick suddenly got a wild look in his eyes, roughly grabbed his sister's shoulder and demanded, "What kind of a game are you playing at sister?"

"Unhand my Sophy!" Captain Croft demanded. "Are you that far in your cups, _Captain_ Wentworth?"

"Certainly not," he replied, releasing her. "My apologies Sophia, but you must admit you are baiting me. I wager that Edward observed more than I suspected and the two of you have been gossiping together like old pea hens. Tell me straight, did Mr. Muskgrove ask for Miss Anne's hand?"

"He did," she responded.


	14. Chapter 14

**Happy Thanksgiving to all my FF buddies!**

 **CeceliaR this chapter is for you. Your review decided me on writing another chapter for this story before my other WIP (which was also left at a key plot point).**

Sophia took pity on Frederick, her key motive in her prior recitation being to determine how much he cared for Miss Anne Elliot. "However, she refused him."

Frederick exhaled the breath that he did not **realize** he was holding. "Undoubtedly, Mr. Muskgrove did not satisfy her godmother Lady Russell's ambitions."

"From what I heard, Miss Anne's refusal was made with no need to consult another, though she recommended that Mr. Muskgrove pursue her younger sister. After about a year (after repeatedly trying to work on Miss Anne and even enlisting said Lady Russell to sway her mind) he turned his attentions to Miss Mary, who accepted them gladly. He proposed, Miss Mary accepted and by this time they must be married."

"How is it that Edward is privy to all of this information via an apothecary? Why would such a man share such information with my brother, and how in fact would he gain knowledge of it to begin with?"

Frederick continued, speaking more to himself than Sophia. "I can understand that Mr. Robinson would know of the engagement of Mr. Muskgrove and Miss Mary, but I cannot imagine that Mr. Muskgrove would openly bandy about his rejection and Anne always kept affairs of her heart most private indeed."

Sophia smiled a bit knowingly at her husband when her brother slipped and talked of Miss Anne without the "Miss." Her husband's slight raising of his eyebrows and nod confirmed that he, too, had noticed. Frederick was usually quite observant of proprieties; Sophia was certain then that they had been engaged. Too, there was the way Frederick had rolled his lips in against each other, pressing them in after concluding that sentence, as if remembering a kiss.

Sophia knew her brother to be as hot blooded as any other, though usually all his passion for life was directed toward his duties. She also knew him to be a loyal and honorable man. She was certain that he had been in love, was still in love, and dearly desired the one he loved.

"Has she fallen perhaps for Mr. Robinson but knows him to be an inappropriate object whom she cannot marry?"

Sophia could tell that Frederick was grasping at explanations that tended toward the ridiculous rather than allow himself the freedom to truly hope for what he desired most.

"What a ridiculous supposing, Frederick. For shame, for you to suppose her heart is that inconstant! Mr. Robinson is a happily married man. He certainly cares for her, but in a fatherly way. I expect he rather fancies himself a matchmaker. Much like your dear sister."

"And what does my dear sister wish to tell me? What is the meat of what you have gleaned?"

Though Frederick was trying to seem lighthearted, it was clear he was hanging on her every word.

"She waits for you, hopes for you, plans for your return. All this is clear from what Mr. Robinson wrote to Edward. I have his missive here, if you would care to read it."

Frederick nodded, so Sophia lifted up her plate to reveal the folded letter concealed beneath it and passed it to her brother.

With trembling hands, Frederick unfolded it and read:

 _Dear Mr. Wentworth,_

 _I hope you are happy at your post at Shropshire and will forgive my familiarity in discovering your address and writing to you. I believe we have a common interest in one Miss Anne Elliot._

 _For more than two years I have trained Miss Anne in all the healing arts. I did not understand her sudden interest, but she has proven to be a most capable student and one whom I would gladly pass on my interests to if she was capable of holding such a post._

 _Miss Anne is a remarkable woman: steadfast, devoted, humble, capable, sweet, kind, loyal, intelligent and discerning. It took a long time, but eventually Miss Anne, when learning that a Mr. Muskgrove wished to solicit her hand, shared with my wife the reason why she would not, could not consider such an offer and also why she sought to learn my knowledge. It seems she has hope that your brother Captain Wentworth might return and renew his addresses that she was not at liberty to accept when his circumstances were less favorable, and with this hope has sought to make herself as capable a nurse as possible so that if perchance he should return that she will be ready to serve him and his crew in a like manner to your sister Mrs. Croft._

 _Mr. Muskgrove was most dogged in his pursuit of Miss Anne. He asked her multiple times despite her steadfast, though kind, refusals. He enlisted her godmother, Lady Russell, to help him win Miss Anne's hand. She refused to be persuaded. She told Mrs. Robinson that since she had reached her majority, she felt entitled to refuse to obey to her godmother's well-meaning but misguided advice and regretted breaking her engagement to your brother. She told my wife if she had it to do over again that she would have merely asked your brother for a delay and assured him of her devotion._

 _Eventually, Mr. Muskgrove accepted that Miss Anne would never be his bride and settled for Miss Mary Elliot instead. He clearly does not have the constancy she has, though his pursuit seems more dogged than that of your brother._

 _She is too good a woman to linger forever. She is not made to be a spinster. If your brother is worthy of her and shares her devotion, perhaps you can persuade him to renew his addresses. If, however, he will never return, she needs to know that as well. Mrs. Robinson and I simply want what his best for her. We wish for her love to be rewarded if he be worthy. I beseech you to take this matter up with Captain Wentworth and give her relief from her suffering._

 _Your humble servant,_

 _John Robinson_


	15. Chapter 15

**There is a fascinating thesis online called, "Shore Wives: The Lives of British Naval Officers' Wives and Widows, 1750-1815" by Amy Lynn Smallwood of Wright State University, published in 2008, which anyone wishing to write about Mrs. Croft's life or Anne's future life should read. corescholar dot libraries dot wright dot edu/etd_all/851 I can't say that I used much from it in this chapter, but I took copious notes for later use.  
**

Frederick's reaction to such a letter was all that could be expected even if most of his reaction was directed inward rather than outwardly expressed. If he had been a woman, he would have felt the freedom to swoon in being assured that his beloved's most tender affections were still his and had a strength and vitality which caused her to devote herself in an education to take up the very profession that he had suggested would be of most use as appropriate for one of her sex on board a ship. However, as he was not a woman and was a captain who was supposed to be steady in any crisis, he only gripped the page too tight and thought the thoughts too precious to be said aloud to any but her. _Oh my beloved,_ thought he, _such precious feelings you must have expressed regarding me that Mr. Robinson would take it upon himself to communicate on your behalf. Such steadiness of purpose, such devotion, to think and plan of our future when my last words to you were so bitter. You have shown a constancy that has put me to shame, yet I shall redeem myself in your eyes, prove myself true._

Frederick remembered their last exchange so vividly, both their words and how she looked in each moment. He remembered demanding that he would never give her up even before she asked him to. There was just something in her quietness and sad eyes that made him know she was about to ask that, though he did not think he knew then or now exactly what made him know that. It was not her quietness or sad eyes alone, she had been quiet and sad before when something recollected to her the loss of her beloved mother and she did not want to burden him with that, but this time it was different somehow. Perhaps it was the way she carried herself, or the tilt of her head, or the way she grasped his arm just a bit too tightly even after he had stopped as she requested.

Yet in the next moment when Anne was asking him to do that very thing in order for him to succeed in his chosen occupation, he wished he had remained silent, made her raise the topic, for perhaps, just perhaps she would not have done it, would have delayed and then thought better of it. He remembered the feel of the flesh under her chin as he drew her face upwards with just one finger, silently demanding that she look at him. In remembrance, that finger tingled a little. Her little face had stayed tilted up toward him and he remembered wanting to bend down and kiss her senseless to stop her hated words, but with her words she had taken away the right she had previously bestowed on him to claim her with his kisses and, later, in all the ways that a groom might claim his bride after the wedding vows.

Now, when he recollected that moment, he wished he had acted on his impulse. Had he not done just that before he had any true right, that night after the assembly before he proposed? He had kissed her first, with a passion and vigor that had surprised even him, even though he knew how much he loved her and wished to show her physical affection, before he asked for her hand. She had surprised him by meeting his kisses with a passion all her own and it had been extremely difficult to not follow through on their shared passion to its natural fruition.

Frederic had long believed that women could enjoy the pleasures of the flesh. Were not the whores who swarmed each naval ship when put into port to ply their trade, wishing to separate sailors from their wages before they could even disembark proof of that? They must have some enjoyment of the occupation, it could not be fully mere acting. However, he always imagined that for an innocent woman, she herself did not know how her body could be made to feel and it would take time for a husband to awaken his new wife into the pleasures of her new station. He had known that Anne was an innocent, everything about her made that fully evident. Yet, when he kissed her, he discovered a roaring passion beneath her demure and always proper exterior, a heat and eagerness that matched his own, a side he confidently believed she had shown to none but him.

He should have attempted to bring forth Anne's passion to help her resist the rationality that led her to release him. Perhaps if he had, Anne could have put aside the disapprobation from her godmother and father, and in giving free rein to her boiling blood that beckoned her eager flesh to unite with his she might have come to understand that it could not be gainsaid. Yet, something then had held him back. Perhaps it was a latent fear that she might push him away.

He remembered the last thing he said to her was, "If you loved me, you would never let me go. You have used me quite ill to pretend affection and then at the first sign of opposition to send me away." He now knew for certain that none of those words were true. He knew she did love him and yet, inexplicably to him in that moment, she had turned him away. However, it was meant more as a delay, she had never truly let him go. He was still hers as long as she still pursued their future with her every action. Her affection had been true and constant. The opposition she had received must have been truly overwhelming from both the woman she regarded as almost a mother and her father in fact if not affection. She had been endeavoring to act in a manner that would allow him to achieve all his ambitions and she had been right that without the tether of a waiting sweetheart that he had been willing to be reckless when the situation demanded it, willing to take risks for rewards and this was what she must have foreseen. He understood that he could have returned after knowing he would have the Laconia and she would have without hesitation left everything behind to follow him.

To suddenly know she was awaiting him was too much. He could not absorb it all. It overwhelmed his ability to have any rational thought. Instead, images played in his mind. A hurried journey condensed into few quick images and then he would knock on her door and sweep her away. An image of them pledging themselves to one another, an image of the beginnings of the consummation, and image of him bringing her aboard the ship and the glad welcome she would receive from the men both envious of his good fortune and wanting to make a good impression on the kind lady who would come to their aid, soften his displeasure and make the ship a happier place. An image of every night in their cabin, her being his.

However, after a few moments, when some rationality returned to Frederick, he knew it was not that simple. Their ships were now at Gibralter, not Portsmouth or Plymouth. He was bound for the West Indies next and he knew not when he would be bound again for England. And even if bound for England, he was tied to his ship unless repairs were being made upon it or he was turned upon land at half pay while awaiting another posting. He might possibly give his ship up, but then he would never have another. He did not think that Anne, with the sacrifices she had made to be able to serve faithfully with him aboard his ship would want that.

Captain Croft and his sister Sophia were patiently waiting as Frederick considered these things and as of yet no one had said one word. Sophia could tell from Frederick's countenance that he was not unmoved. Many little things told her that Frederick loved this Anne still and would do all he could to return to her. Perhaps it was a slight relaxing of his worry lines, a subtle upturning and softening of his lips, his slow but deep breaths. However, she also knew the impossibility of the situation and what remedies might yet be pursued.


	16. Chapter 16

**Guest, this is for you. I was working on this chapter yesterday, but you "persuaded" (ha, ha) me to complete it, even if it is on the short side.**

 **Life is throwing me a lot of curve balls, but at least I will never be bored. Things seem to be imploding with my daughter just as I prepare to fly out and see my dad who just had surgery. But you all and our beloved characters are here to help see me through it.**

Frederick was very quiet as he considered. The visage of Anne was before him, she was saying, "Come to me Frederick. I am still yours. I am waiting for you. All is in readiness, you need simply appear and nothing shall prevent our marriage." Yet he knew that he could not simply appear, no matter how he might want to do so. His life was not his own to command, he was a captain entrusted with a ship with a duty to protect his country from the French and serve his King in any capacity the navy could.

Frederick thought he had mastered himself before he spoke and was then surprised to hear the catch in his voice as he said, "It seems I erred gravely in not seeking to renew my addresses when my consequence rose to better match Miss Anne's station, when I was awaiting my current assignment. I must let her know how deeply I value her thinking and planning for our future when I have as yet done nothing to reassure her of my continued feelings and plans. A mere letter seems vastly insufficient to repair the breach I caused and I cannot even know if I sent one whether it would reach her (both from the general difficulties in sending letters from here, and the possible machinations of her family). What a noble woman she is to continue on in her efforts to prepare herself to assist me, regardless of the lack of encouragement she received which was her due! Tell me sister, brother, what now I ought to do?"

Sophia and her husband were both astonished that Frederick would seek their advice. Usually he had a course of action decided upon easily. It was truly a sign that he was overwhelmed and flummoxed with how to proceed that he would shown the vulnerability of uncertainty.

"Surely you will still pursue her hand through all means available to you!" Captain Croft offered. "If she is half the woman my Sophie is, you would be blessed indeed."

"Yes, that is not the question. Anne is among the best of women." There was a softness around Frederick's eyes and a slight upturning of his lips. "I wronged her greatly when questioning her fidelity when it seems she was simply exercising the prudence I did not, when seeking to secure her hand on nothing further than my own faith that I would soon rise further. I simply know not how best renew my addresses, not knowing when I will be again bound for England and have the time to seek her out. How can I marry her as soon as can be if she is willing to act now, given our physical separation?"

"If the world worked as lending library novels suggest," Sophia offered, "when your coded missive reaches her, she should fly to the nearest port, secure passage to you disguised as a man and once her identity was revealed one of your fellow captains could marry you, or barring that you could marry by proxy and then under the authority of your name she could be conveyed to you."

"While such stories may captivate, we all know that such courses would not only be ill-advised but have no legitimacy under the law," Captain Croft replied with a slightly dark look, a crease appearing between his brows. "Such stories undoubtedly do damage."

"Even if she could make her way to the port my ship might eventually dock, it would hardly be advisable or prudent. I would never dream of asking that of her." Frederick added. "And how could bans be published in such event?"

"Scotland would certainly be a better place to meet, or someplace else where marriages can easily be arranged," Sophia added, "but a woman can hardly elope by herself."

"It is too bad you are not acquainted with her," Captain Croft commented to Sophia. "Much could be accomplished if she could accompany you to your brother as your guest."

"Then all that need be accomplished is for me to become acquainted with her, so that we may then together travel with her to an appropriate locale." Sophia stated in a matter-of-fact voice.

"Oh, is that all dear wife?" Captain Croft asked, raising an eyebrow. "You must simply travel unaccompanied to a place you have never been before and form a new friendship and then set off for a convenient port for a stay of unknown duration? Nothing too difficult for your talents, I suppose."

"Do you doubt my talents?" Sophia asked with mock outrage. "Can I not plan full provisions for our meals for more than a year at sea, hire servants and a cook for us on board your ship, negotiate wages, secure the land you inherited and pay its taxes during our brief stints ashore and when on board ensure the men have sufficient lime for their health and tend to all the things that would yet be neglected without me?"

"I never doubt you, my dear," he responded, leaning in to plant a benevolent kiss upon her brow, "but this is an undertaking that might take months or more than a year. Are you prepared to be parted from me that long? It would certainly be a trial for me, but I shall not stop you from being of service to Frederick."

She considered, "It is true that I have been most miserable when separated from you for any length of time, but when that occurred I had no useful occupation and was consumed by worry for your welfare. Surely now that your promotion is at hand," looking at Frederick she mentioned as an aside, "he is soon to be an admiral," then continued, "if in the midst of action you shall have many ships at your disposal and be well safeguarded. There is also the advantage that we are soon for England. I shall not go alone, I shall likely persuade one of the shore side wives or widows to accompany me."

"Would you indeed do such for me?" Frederick cried out. "Sophia, I do not deserve it, that you would sacrifice your time and effort to correct my foolish errors . . . I know it is asking too much of you, too much of my brother to do without you for so long, and yet I am not of a mind to refuse you."

"Write to her," Sophia told him, "hold nothing back. I will deliver your letter to her myself and then we will see what can be arranged."


	17. Chapter 17

**Please excuse typos/spelling errors as I am writing on my phone in airports and during my flights on my way to see my father.** **Writing is a good distraction from worrying about him and wondering whether we should believe a report that my daughter has arranged to sneak a boy into our house tonight (and how it will all go down if she actually tries it).**

Sophia never waivered from her self appointed task and Frederick wrote his letter and handed it over the following morning before he could think the better of it. Thus a mere three months later, Sophia and her friend Mrs. Holmes were staying in an inn a scant two miles from Kellynch Hall and Sophia had already left a calling card for Miss Anne Elliot with Mrs. Holmes name added and a handwritten indication of their present address. The card which stated Mrs. Croft had a lightly inked drawing of a ship in the corner, a hint in case Miss Anne had difficulty recalling her identity (though her brother Frederick was confident Miss Anne would know his sister's name from her association with both him and his brother).

When Anne returned home from visiting Lady Russell and noted the card left for her (Anne received few cards of her own, most were left for her elder sister or her father), she had to retreat to her chambers to process the thoughts and emotions which the small bit of stationery excited in her. _Mrs. Croft, Frederick's sister is Mrs. Croft, wife to a Captain Croft. What can she be doing here? Mr. Wentworth is in Shropshire, has been there long enough that there can be no doubt she knows of it. And we have never been introduced, though I have longed to know her. What reason can she have for being here and more specifically for calling upon me?_ Even while Anne's heart was, over and over singing with strident vigor, _It must be Frederick; he has sent her to me!_ , her mind told her heart not to hope as it was now hoping so strongly that it felt as if she had just come in from a thorough wetting from a stingingly chilled rain, her whole body was now submerged in a hot bath, or perhaps redressed in a new frock warmed in front of a blazing fire and she was now wrapped in a luxurious blanket in front of that same fire with tea in her cup that was just a shade too hot to have more than a tiny sip at a time. Anne's heart knew that her head had kept her from noticing the rain overly much, so that she might walk on through her life without Frederick in it. Yet now, even the hope that would change made her recognize all the deficiency in the life she had been living. Who could fault her for trying to tamp down on that hope so if it was wrong she would not feel the bite of the freezing rain quite so strongly if forced back out into the storm? So her mind searched for alternative explanations. _Perhaps it is a different Mrs. Croft. Perhaps one of my classmates has married a Mr. Croft._ Anne's eyes alighted on the little figure of the ship. She searched her mind for which one of her classmates had an affinity and talent for drawing and identified several who drew portraits. _Now which of them could have drawn this ship?_ She rejected them one by one. _Jane had no talent for rendering anything not immediately before her and told me she never viewed the sea. Emma never wanted to show anyone her renderings. Willamina was too proper to ever put anything on her card, would never stay at a location so common as that inn._ She then considered whether any of her classmates had a maiden name which might bear some association to boats or ships, but found none. She then gave her heart leyway to hope a bit, but it took the reins of her thoughts and directed them to outright fantasy, in which not only Mrs. Croft but her brother Frederick were staying at that inn and he merely sought some reassurance before calling on her himself. However, Anne's mind was too ordered and sensible to give this thought much credence. Too, it would diminish Frederick's character to have him hide behind his sister's skirts. She could not imagine this of the determined man she knew. _But you did not imagine he would leave without giving you another chance to speak with him_ , her mind whispered, _and its been years since that summer interlude so how well do you truly know him?_ No, it could not be that he was here, but Anne could not account for why his sister would be here. _Did Mr. Wentworth mention me to her? Did he know I was but briefly engaged to his brother? Do we perhaps some other person in common that recommended she call on me? Did perhaps she just happen to be passing through and want to bring greetings from Mr. Wentworth who she came from seeing? Does she wish to tell me of Frederick's marriage or it could not be, I review all news of naval losses so carefully, word of his death?_ This lastlast thought, the most unlikely of all the scenarios she had conjured thus far sent a chill along her spin and raised the little hairs on the back of her neck, before she wisked it away to the ever growing pile of discarded thoughts where it belonged. _I will just have to wait and see_.

Anne then considered when she could return Mrs. Croft's call, the only legitimate way to determine her purpose. Anne immediately determined that it was too late today, but that she would go in the morning during the early part of the acceptable time for calling.

After a distracted rest of the day, anxious night and restless morning, Anne approached the inn with trepidation. She dearly wished she could have someone by her side but also knew that bringing anyone would styme her efforts to find out why Mrs. Croft and Mrs. Holmes (Anne had almost entirely overlooked whatever role she might play in this) had called upon her. The proprietor of the inn greeted her by name and escorted her to the ladies she sought who were seated in the common area of the inn partaking of tea and a light meal.

There was a slightly awkward moment in which he said, "Miss Anne for you," and located an extra chair so that she might join them. Anne took this opportunity to look at the two women before her in an attempt to determine which of them might be Mrs. Croft. She immediately discounted a more wisened but respectable looking woman whose bonneted hair was more white than dark, who seemed ill at ease with the amount of space her body occupied and held her shoulders in and her arms close to her body even as she sipped her tea. Anne believed the taller and more vigorous looking woman of the two, with a tanned face and expressive lines to be Mrs. Croft.

After Anne was seated, it was this woman who took charge, requesting a cup for Anne and some additional biscuits. As the proprietor hurried off to attend to the matter, that woman with an open and appraising look that somehow reminded Anne of Frederick though there was little in common in their facial features between her and Frederick, introduced herself as Sophia Croft and her friend as Mirabelle Holmes.

"I am pleased that you have returned my call, Miss Elliot," Sophia said with a half smile that engaged her laugh lines. "I have heard many pleasing reports about you and have been anxious to make your acquaintance for quite some time now."


	18. Chapter 18

**My dad is doing better.**

Within a few minutes of becoming acquianted, all the stiffness and formality drifted away and the three ladies were freely conversing. Their conversation was aided by the fact that their table was well separated from the only other occupied table and after a servanant brought the tea and biscuits no one from the inn approached near.

Sophia was pleased to see that Miss Anne, though having a gentleness about her, also had a determination and strength carefully concealed beneath her proper femininity. Sophia also was delightly to see Miss Anne's compassion as she tried to draw out Mrs. Holmes.

Anne found an admiration for both Mrs. Croft and Mrs. Holmes. She could tell they were women that were used to taking charge and doing what needed to be done and they both had such interesting stories. It was also plain to see the love both women bore for their husbands, though their lives had progressed in sharply different directions. Mrs. Croft sailed with her husband and performed many tasks under his authority. She aided him in advancing his career and he had been lucky in capturing ships and receiving prize money, and had just been promoted to admiral.

In contrast, Mrs. Holmes had always lived ashore, seeing her husband for only brief interludes. He had been unlucky in missing out on several lucrative campaigns and had seen his income decline. Where other captains grew rich he struggled to adequately provide for his family, but was still cheerful and loving every time he returned to her rather than bemoaning his difficulties.

Anne was sad to hear that Mrs. Holmes' husband had died three years previously, when what appeared to be a slight wound turned gangreneous. It seemed her life had changed dramatically since then.

Mrs. Holmes was at loose ends in dealing with her grief while trying to learn who she was without him, living on a small charitable pension which was not adequate and required her depending upon her sister's family where she was unwanted. Mrs. Holmes' commented, "In the mornings I sit in simple chair much smaller than my sister's seat or those of her daughters or mother, but cannot help but feel they resent my presence in it. It seems they would rather have it be free for visitors, wish I would never leave my room so they could forget about me." Anne then understood why Mrs. Holmes seemed to try to occupy as little space as possible.

Anne's gentle enquiries were rewarded with Mrs. Holmes visibly relaxing. Anne learned Mrs. Holmes had a half-grown son. She started to call him Eddie, but then corrected herself and called him Edgar.

It seemed Edgar was even now serving on a ship as a midshipman with hopes of soon becoming a lieutenant. Her maternal pride was clear to see, but her pride was mixed with fear that his career might prove unlucky, too. "But he was born for the sea and would never be content on land. He is very like Edgar the elder, my dear husband."

Somehow it became Mrs. Holmes whose conversation revealed the purpose of their current presence near Kellynch Hall.

"But then Sophia arrived for a visit and at once said to me, 'Mirabella, I am on a mission and need your help. There is a young woman whose acquaintance I need to make, who was once promised to my youngest brother and may be yet again' and three days later I find myself here."

Mrs. Croft then turned toward Anne. Her expression was hopeful. "You have friends who have advocated on your behalf and word of this reached both myself and my brother Frederick. From everything I have learned from my brother Edward and Mr. Robinson I came to believe that Frederick needed to seize any opportunity to renew what once seemed at an end. Everything I have learned today confirms to me that their judgment was sound, but irregardless I would have acted as agreed. I have come hither solely to bring you a missive from Frederick and aid you to reconcile and marry should that still be your desire."

Mrs. Croft then drew forth a letter that Anne could see bore the name "Miss Anne Elliot" in a strong but elegant script. With a shaking hand, Anne reached for the letter.

Another woman who felt less might have taken the letter, thanked her hostess and then made small talk until she could politely excuse herself to walk home and read the letter alone in the privacy of her chambers, but such a thought did not occur to Anne, so starved was she for any shred of hope. Even as Anne brought the letter toward her and as of yet had seen nothing but her name, she felt her eyes begin to sting and blur with unshed tears.

Anne was not even aware she was speaking aloud as she said, "Oh Frederick, my love, can it be? I have become so tired of being without you though I go on doing it each day, have no other choice while my heart still beats and my body yet breathes, but I have grown so very tired, tired of waiting for you."

She broke the seal eagerly and unfolded the papers. She tried her hardest to call back the threatened tears that blurred the pages before her. But it was to no avail. Try as she might she could not read his words. She yet held the pages tightly by their edges even as she asked, "Could you read it to me?"

Sophia and Mirabella exchanged looks as to whether this was a good idea. Frederick had not consulted with Sophia as to what to write or read her a draft of the letter. Sophia had received it already sealed. She recalled she had advised Frederick to hold nothing back.

"Miss Anne, how would it be if we took you to our rented rooms and let you collect yourself and read in privacy?"

Anne nodded dumbly and shakily rose from her chair. She swayed and Sophia and Mirabella each in turn held one of her arms, fearing that Anne might fall otherwise. They escorted Anne to the tiny sitting room of their chambers and withdrew to the bedroom, leaving the door open to make sure that Anne remained well and waited.


	19. Chapter 19

**Claire, I have added back in the paragraph breaks that FF ate. Thanks for letting me know.**

It took several minutes before Anne was able to read Frederick's letter. First she allowed herself a little cry and then was able to calm her eyes at least sufficiently enough to read.

 _Dearest Anne,_

 _If I still have the good fortune to be privileged to address you by that name I am blessed indeed. Please forgive me my anger, my quickness in leaving from my stay with my brother and not being sensible enough to at least have another conversation with you to sort out plans for a future when I should be better situated._

 _My heart was pierced, wounded, almost broken except that I knew there might be some slim chance for a future between us, but I was too cowardly to seek you out after my good fortune and promotion and beg you to renew our previous understanding. You see, I could not but fear I might find you married to another, mother to the children that ought to have been ours or if while yet single (how other men, men more worthy of securing the approval of your father and godmother could not but secure your hand in the interval while I was on the Asp I hardly knew and when Edward had tidings of you my eyes read such information until the words were burned into my soul) unwilling to be married to me. I should have sought you out, for a man does not recover from such a devotion of the heart to one such as you. He ought not; he does not._

 _I was weak when I should have been decisive. I was irresolute when I should have singlemindedly pursued my heart's desire. I was resentful (of all the men who might obtain you hand when I would not, I could never doubt that you would be loved and sought by others), when I should have taken action. I was smarting under feelings year after year thinking of you as one who had yielded, who had given me up, who had been influenced by any one rather than by me. I meant to forget you if I could not have you, but have utterly failed in such attempt. But I have never been inconstant. You pierce my soul._

 _It is a period indeed that we have been a part and I am to blame for its extension when we may have earlier been united. Please forgive my weakness that required something further of assurance that your tender feelings were not lost forever._

 _Undeserved as it has been, yet I received just that when I learned via a letter from Mr. Robinson to my brother, brought to me by my dear sister, that you have with the steadiness of principle and the resolution of a collected mind sought to prepare yourself for the role in my life that I blithly suggested (though I still believe it to be a good one for the Anne I knew, so gentle and kind, with such compassion for her fellow man). When I learned such evidence of your continuing devotion and his assurance that it was done in hopes of me, you can hardly understand how that pierced me and then the added agony that I could not in that very moment sail for England. I know my duty well indeed but in those first moments I would have given up my command, my honor, my fortune, all that I have to be in your presence immediately though of course I recollected that I could not truly do so as the vision we had for our future depended upon my career. Thus while I desire nothing more than to see you right now, to utter the words you deserve to hear straight from my lips, I must speak to you by such means as are within my reach._

 _My dear sister Sophia sacrifices much in being obliged to leave Admiral Croft's company for a period as yet undetermined to seek you out on my behalf. I do not deserve such devotion, such love, but I had not any will to refuse her offer that might yet unite us._

 _Oh my dearest Anne, I, too, have planned for our future. Gone forever are the habits which allowed for me not to have much in the way of remaining funds when I stayed with Edward. I have saved every farthing I rationally could (though of course I spent adequately to keep my food proper for my health, to equip myself and to take care of my crew), so that I might have the means to support you in the manner you deserve should I someday gain your hand though I have occasionally indulged myself in acquiring items on my travels which I believed you would please your eye in the hope that I yet might one day give them to you._

 _Even now having received reassurance from a fairly recent and reliable source, I doubt and fear. I am half agony and half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings which you once bore for me are gone for ever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own then when you almost broke it. I have loved none but you, have never seen your equal or known one with the perfect excellence of your mind. Weak, resentful and undeserving I have been, but never inconstant._

 _You alone have caused my sister to travel to you with whichever of her friends she enlisted in this endeavor. While I wait to see if her efforts will bear fruit or break my heart in two, for you alone I continue to think and plan._

 _What good would it be if I could gain each prize, promotion and accolade in the navy if I shall not have you? I can hardly write. I must send this letter off in my sister's most capable hands, knowing it will be faithfully and expeditiously delivered, yet still uncertain of my fate_.

 _I beg of you, relieve this man's sufferings and as I ask again, dearest Anne, please become my wife. If you accept I will acede to any arrangements you deem best. I will wait until I can properly be ashore in England and court you as you deserve and arrange the finest clothes for our wedding with a breakfast to follow fit for a queen if that is your desire._

 _But I hope, as undeserving as I am, that you might be willing to seek the soonest union that may be. My sister will know how best to arrange the method by which we may be lawfully joined together based on where I am expected to be. Admiral Croft can certainly obtain such intelligence and Sophia or her friend will get you where you need to be. A single trunk provisioned as Sophy advises will best travel for such purposes and I cannot say what future trials may await you on such an unknown journey or later aboard my ship._

 _I think I ask too much of you and should crumple this missive and only beg you to wait for my return, rather than seek to persuade you to yield not to safety but to risk, to turn your back on any duty you might owe your father or godmother, but I confess I am a selfish creature and desire you at my side so we may become man and wife as soon as may be. I shall be exquisitely happy in our rapid reunion should it come to pass._

 _Please, my dearest Anne, say you will once more be mine as I am forever yours and follow where my sister shall take you._

 _All my love,_

 _Frederick_


	20. Chapter 20

**I hope you are all enjoying a good Christmas season. I'm sorry that my updates have been slow. There have been a lot of bumps in the writing road for this chapter. This morning FF froze up and didn't save my updates which would have made this chapter ready for posting. Right now I am writing in a hotel room having been put up after a my connecting flight was progressively delayed and is now delayed overnight after yesterday having to reschedule my flight for today after my first flight was so delayed I would have missed my connection. I am happy to report that I left my father very much improved compared to where he was at when I arrived but am anxious to get home to my children and husband. I am just praying that this last leg of my journey actually does get completed in the morning.**

Although Anne was eager to read Frederick's missive, and had a fair idea that happiness awaited her inside, she read slowly at first so as to not be overwhelmed. Each word, written in his strong and masculine hand, was savored.

She also treasured every sign of his feelings that was contained beyond his words. Here, his pen had glided over the page. There, he had pressed too hard and there was a bit of a blot, perhaps from strength of feeling. In this spot this crease might have been made by him holding the page too tight. Anne put her own fingers there, hoping to feel some echo of his touch.

Frederick wrote well and Anne had not a doubt that he had bared all. He was as a filleted fish, open for inspection and he himself had done the filleting so that she might see all.

Though only a few words were needed for her whole body to be suffused with overpowering happiness, his torment also greatly agitated her. Anne understood at once that the agony she felt over the years was equally shared by Frederick and she desired to relieve it as soon as could be.

Such a letter was not soon to be recovered from and fortunately there was no need to do so. _He still loves me! Has never stopped loving me! He needs me as I need him. Finally I can act and have a means to do so. Nothing shall prevent our joining now should I have to swim the whole way to him myself._

Anne's heart sang even as her mind recalled her to herself to consider how best she might accomplish what she would need to do to leave all behind with the least amount of upset to anyone. Though her heart urged her to storm into the bedroom and demand they leave this instant so that both his and her suffering might be relieved in the most expeditious manner possible, her mind understood she could not leave her home or England that quickly. Though a half an hour earlier Mrs. Croft and Mrs. Holmes were strangers, she was entirely comfortable placing herself in their hands. Mrs. Croft would be her sister and she would join them both in the particular sisterhood of being married to a naval captain with all that it might entail. As Mrs. Holmes' story told her, happiness and tragedy both might befall them, but he would be her husband as soon as it could be arranged.

Anne already felt closeness to these women. Mrs. Croft she had long desired to know and Mrs. Holmes with her slightly hesitant manner, was kindness itself and Anne expected that Mrs. Holmes present close association with Mrs. Croft would help restore Mrs. Holmes to the confident and self reliant woman Anne believed Mrs. Holmes formerly had been. Anne noticed that Mrs. Holmes already sat a little straighter and spoke in a less tentative manner than when they had spoken earlier. Anne reasoned from various things she had gleaned from Frederick and Mr. Wentworth, that a navy wife who long lived ashore was entrusted with much by her husband and had to be resourceful.

Resolute, she summoned them to her by calling their names and asked, "Tell me, what should my trunk contain?"

Sophia, for her part although she had no doubt of the probable outcome, still felt joy that she was being of use to her little brother (who she had once called Freddy) and triumph that she would be the means used to unite them. From having spoken with Miss Anne, she knew Miss Anne was a proper match for him and was glad she was decisive, too. To Sophia it recalled to her the certainty she felt about her own dear husband to be and lack of hesitation when he asked for her hand mere days after they met and proposed they live out their marriage together upon the sea.

Sophia, meticulous as she was, had already drafted a list and in shorter order presented it to Miss Anne. Sophia was surprised, however, to be asked for it so soon. They discussed when they could depart and made arrangements for calling on Miss Anne the following morning and departing in three days, the soonest that Miss Anne believed she could make the necessary arrangements to settle all her outstanding business to her satisfaction and see those who were beloved to her before leaving them behind perhaps forever.

Beyond knowing what to pack, Anne had already considered how best to bring up her departure with her family and godmother. She was rightly concerned that if they knew the true reason why she was leaving, she would face vigorous and strident opposition. It was not beyond consideration that they might attempt to stop her as they would likely think she had taken leave of her senses to depart with her new acquaintances to an unknown destination. Anne felt guilty about deceiving her family and godmother, but believed it was the only way.

Anne told them she would tell only the Robinsons her true plans and asked whether Mrs. Croft would be willing to pose as being her elder classmate whose former name was the only one her father or godmother were likely to recall (the former Miss Hamilton who three years her elder had been kind to her when Miss Anne had unhappily begun school grieving the loss of a mother whom she had dearly loved and feeling her separation from home).

Mrs. Croft sensibly asked, "Will not your father know I am too old to be the former Miss Hamilton? After all, I must be several years her senior."

Anne then had to explain, "My father will be unlikely to disbelieve your identity both because he does not know me to lie and because I have heard him opine on more than one occasion that naval life ages persons terribly. Your appearance will simply confirm his previous perception."

Happily, Anne took Mrs. Croft and Mrs. Holmes with her to see the Robinsons that afternoon, the normal time for her to meet with them for instruction. The introductions were no sooner made than Anne was thanking them both for interfering in her affairs to such a happy conclusion. She rightly guessed that Mrs. Robinson was the impetus behind her husband's letter, though Mr. Robinson had composed it himself. Mrs. Robinson reviewed the list of needed items and in her piping bird-like voice announced that they had nearly all the medicinal supplies needed and could easily obtain the rest. Anne would leave well stocked with all manner of herbs, vials for preparing them, bandages and other supplies. Mrs. Robinson told Anne in no uncertain terms that they would accept no payment, that spending time with and educating Anne was more than enough payment, though Mrs. Robinson did whisper that she hoped Anne might write them a letter to help them experience a bit of her joy once she was successfully reunited with Captain Wentworth. From the looks that Mr. and Mrs. Robinson were exchanging, Anne fancied that they were remembering their own courtship. Anne enjoyed seeing how quickly the Robinsons, Mrs. Croft and Mrs. Holmes took to one another. Before more than a few minutes passed, Mrs. Croft was quizzing Mr. Robinson regarding particular medical issues that had arisen during a particular voyage and taking note of their suggestions of what might have been done while Mrs. Holmes was sharing details of the agony of her most recent living situation to the sympathetic ear of Mrs. Robinson. Far too quickly, the visit was concluded, with the Robinsons promising to have everything ready for Anne in two days.

The next morning Mrs. Croft and Mrs. Holmes called on the Elliots. Anne had prepared her father and Elizabeth to expect them and emphasized how kind the former Miss Hamilton had been to her when she first went away to school. She also mentioned that they had invited her on a trip and she wished them to become acquainted as she was well inclined to go. Curious about who would invite Anne, her father and sister showed reasonable courtesy toward the women while they were there, but Anne knew her father was reserving his criticism of their appearance for after the conclusion of the call.

Once the initial courtesies were observed, Mrs. Croft embroidered on Anne's basic story. Mrs. Croft immediately seemed to perceive that Sir Walter was puffed up with his own importance and that a certain amount of flattery would serve her well.

Therefore Mrs. Croft observed, "Sir Walter and Miss Elliot, how kind of you let me call upon you by strength of my association with Miss Anne. I hardly dreamed that when I renewed my friendship with your daughter that I would now be begging your indulgence to let her travel with us. While I knew our route of travel would take us near Kellynch Hall, I hesitated to even call upon Miss Anne when I saw how truly impressive it was from the exterior. It was only because of the love I bear for Miss Anne that I even deigned to call and leave my card. After all, though my dear husband is now an admiral, I have long lived as a captain's wife quite simply on his ship."

Anne could see her father nodding slightly, delighting to see his own self-perceived consequence confirmed.

"Though I had months earlier written to Miss Anne and made arrangements to meet with her when I arrived and introduce her to my older sister, I could not at that time in good conscience even consider inviting her to join us in our travels; I could not presume to request her company, knowing of her consequence as the other girls at our school made clear. However, when she returned our call we were truly flattered that she would humble herself, knowing that she belongs to the most important family for many miles, that she would visit a mere inn was a wonder to us both."

Mrs. Holmes must have picked up on Mrs. Croft's tactic as she added, "I have long known that it was my sister's dearest wish to have Miss Anne join us on our travels, though of course Miss Anne was unknown to me except through my sister's stories regarding their time together at school. Yet I thought it almost beyond belief that we might propose such a thing to one above us."

Mrs. Holmes paused and Mrs. Croft took up the conversation, "So imagine my surprise when my sister herself, having found herself most charmed by Miss Anne's manner, requested that Miss Anne become one of our party. Imagine also our shock that Miss Anne would actually consider our proposal and tentatively agree, of course subject to receiving your approval and endorsement, Sir Walter. Thus I request that you lend us Miss Anne for two or three months. We plan to travel and see a great many sights and perhaps may expand our trip should all be willing."

"I shall consider the matter," said Sir Walter and then the conversation turned in other directions. While her father said nothing to particularly endorse the plan, by the fact that he showed no opposition either and his face remained relaxed, Anne was convinced that her leaving on this trip should pose no undue difficulty. Anne was not surprised, however, when once Mrs. Croft and Mrs. Holmes departed, that her father began abusing their appearance.

"Anne, did you see how horribly your friend has aged from accompanying her husband to sea? Why her skin was so very rough and red; she looked twenty years your elder. I am not sure about such a scheme. The winds off England are sure to turn you more haggard and in traveling you will be exposed to far too much sun. While I understand that not all can be as handsome and blooming as Elizabeth and me, what kind of guardians will they be for you if they have not a care for their own appearances? Why, Mrs. Holmes looks of an age with Lady Russell, with her eyes gone to crows feet."

"Father," said Anne most respectfully, "do you have any true opposition to me traveling with Mrs. Croft and her sister besides concern for me needing to guard my face from undue exposure to the elements? I promise to take all appropriate precautions."

"Well, I suppose not," Sir Walter said, "though I do not have much in the way of funds to send with you. However as they saw fit to invite you, they must have the means to pay your way as well. While the wife of an admiral is respectable company, though one who is promoted by his labors to such a post is not truly a member of the gentry, I am still a bit concerned you may grow a bit coarse in such company."

Anne was not sure whether he was referring to her appearance or manner. She knew from past experience that it was better to say nothing than inquire further and be treated to a diatribe from him on all that was wrong with her friends. Anne had long ago concluded that she could not change or even influence her father's opinion and for the sake if family harmony it was best not to try.

"Oh, just let her go," Elizabeth said in a slightly annoyed voice, "no one shall need her here."

Later that day after not finding Mary at home, Anne called on her godmother for their weekly tea. Lady Russell was quite distressed at Anne's new plans and insisted that she be introduced to Mrs. Croft and Mrs. Holmes before she could think well of such a journey and Anne promised to arrange to call with them on the morrow.

The next morning Anne was successful in finding her sister at home. Mary immediately found a way to be insulted that Lady Russell had heard about Anne's plans before herself. "Anne, was I not due the courtesy as your sister of you telling me such news immediately and yet if I understand you correctly, you have discussed the matter with Lady Russell first. What shall I do without you to tend to me when I am ill, I consider myself most ill used to be told last and abandoned in such a manner."

Thus Anne was made to soothe and flatter her sister. Even while she was doing so and explaining that she had attempted to call on Mary before Lady Russell, but heard Mary was at that time at the Uppercross great house and had not time to pursue her there given her standing arrangement with Lady Russell, a small and selfish part of Anne was quite content at the fact that she might never have to tend to one of Mary's imagined illnesses again. To banish such a mean spirited thought, Anne resolved to regularly write to her sister and give her every consideration in complaints about her health.

Amazingly enough, when Anne called with Mrs. Croft and Mrs. Holmes at Kellynch Lodge, Lady Russell seemed to have no difficulty in believing that Mrs. Croft was indeed the former Miss Hamilton and to like the two women well enough to be tolerably willing that Anne should travel with them. Thus after Anne called upon her near neighbors to bid them adieu for a time, all the obstacles to her journey had been overcome and every necessary courtesy extended to make her comfortable in quitting Kellynch Hall for perhaps the final time.

Anne's truck was mostly packed with medicinal supplies and her journals of knowledge and the more personal writing in one very special journal. She packed but three gowns for herself besides the one she was wearing and took little else save for writing supplies and her personal jewelry. It was not worth a great deal, but it had come to her from her share of her mother's jewelry and it might very well be able to fetch cash enough in an emergency. Her father was true to his words in not supplying her with much in the way of funds, but upon their last parting Lady Russell placed some money in her hands and asked her to buy herself something pretty to help remember this adventure. Anne's parting from Lady Russell was more heartfelt than any besides her taking leave of the Robinsons. Though Lady Russell's actions in separating her from Frederick had left a lasting mark, Lady Russell had tried to act in her best interest and Anne truly believed she had meant well.


	21. Chapter 21

**I wish to apologize for my delay in posting on this story. I got caught up in finishing Wickham Wins (and writing the prologue to its sequel which will not be posted until I start real work on it which I am trying my best not to do until this story is complete but for all his improvement Wickham is rather selfish in demanding my attention and Anne is most polite in saying she can keep waiting, though of course she shouldn't have to). However this story should now be posted quicker until its conclusion.**

With all preparations complete for a departure in the morning, Anne finally had a bit of time to think. It occurred to her then to wonder if a letter might not reach Frederick sooner than she herself could do and, if so, why she had not thought to write him back immediately after reading his letter. Thus, one last time she visited Mrs. Croft and Mrs. Holmes at the inn to ask about the matter and if they thought it prudent to try to write to him, to inquire how to address such a missive.

Mrs. Croft seemed a bit embarrassed when she responded, "I do not rightly know. Certainly a letter on a mail coach will travel faster than we can. We are bound for Portsmouth to await word from my husband as to what our destination should be after that to meet Frederick, but how soon we shall hear is uncertain. If the Admiral was able to find out the information before he departed, we would likely beat any packet boat to my brother, but if my husband has needed to rely on packet boat or another source to get word to us, there could be a sizeable delay. Too, I do not know when the next packet will be winging its way to the Laconia. I think you should go ahead and write to him. It may be you will see him in person before any of your missives arrive, but if that does not happen I am sure that he would appreciate hearing from you. However, as your engagement is of a peculiar nature at this juncture, how think you of enclosing your letter in an envelop I address, for propriety's sake? I should like to write him a note myself."

Anne agreed and it was arranged that their first order of business upon departing in the morning would be to send that first letter winging on its way. Mrs. Holmes contributed, "Miss Elliot, if you wish to write Captain Wentworth more than that single time, you should be sure to number your letters because he might not receive them in the order they were posted and some might go astray." She told Anne about a particular year of writing letters to her husband that had them adopt such a method, as their exchanged letters were in such disorder they each thought the other almost daft for the messages they did not respond to (such as the death of her father, and a serious injury he suffered, until they understood the problem. Dates were not enough as a missed missive would only be discovered if it arrived later.

Anne, in hearing such prudent advice, immediately resolved that she would send multiple letters to Frederick along their journey. Either he would receive them before or after they were reunited. If the former, his suffering would sooner be relieved. If the later, he would have assurance that she never questioned her decision as she made her way to him. And if perchance in some unexpected manner either one or the both of them could be lost, an opportunity for telling him that she loved him and was doing all she could to reach him, might perhaps provide some comfort before such a tragedy struck.

Mrs. Croft said she was familiar with such a problem, but it was a good reminder that she should number her letters to her dear husband as she had gotten out of the habit of doing.

Anne re-read the letter from Frederick so that she could respond to everything that he wrote to her, almost as if they were having a conversation. She found the practice maddening and soothing at the same time, maddening because she longed to hear the words of affection he expressed in his own voice with whatever expressions might accompany them and for him to hear her replies, soothing because she could act and tell him all that she had longed to communicate thus far. A small part of her thought it might be apt if he did not receive this first missive for a long time. After all, she had been waiting so long for him with bare crumbs of hope to live on; should he not experience a bit of her torment? Of course she immediately felt guilty for such a thought. He had already been waiting to hear from her and would have to wait still. She wrote and wrote, yet it was not enough. Nothing would ever be enough until she wore his ring and never had to be parted from him again.

Against the fear that this letter might be lost, she copied it into her journal to share with him later if need be.

Anne's departure the next morning was anticlimactic. She had already said all her goodbyes the night before and neither Elizabeth nor her father bothered to get up early enough to see her off, though she knew Elizabeth was awake because she saw her maid bring her tea from the kitchen. Lady Russell did call on her for a few minutes, unfashionably early, and they had a few minutes together before Mrs. Croft and Mrs. Holmes arrived.

Anne had the sense that Lady Russell knew that something else was going on rather than simply a journey for pleasure with friends, but that Lady Russell was refraining from questioning her further. Anne wondered how that could be as she had seen no sign of any insight by Lady Russell when she had introduced her to her friends.

Anne and Lady Russell talked about nothing in particular, but when the other ladies were announced, in the few minutes before they ventured into the parlor, Lady Russell pulled Anne into a quick embrace and told her, "Today you are the very vision of your mother when she was at her happiest. I pray this trip may prove to be all you desire." Then she was brushing away a quick tear and there was no sign that anything was amiss with Lady Russell when she greeted the other women with her typical good manners and after a few minutes of polite chatter, excused herself.

Anne did not have time to wonder over this as she said a quick goodbye to a maid, the cook and the other household servants that were around. One of the footmen helped place her truck in the storage compartment below the coachman's seat. Once in the coach, Mrs. Croft quickly folded her letter around Anne's own and sealed it. Together with the other letters Mrs. Croft had written (to her other brother and husband), they had their coachman deliver them to the post office and then did not stop for several hours.

The journey was unlike one Anne had ever taken part in. Anne's memories of previous journeys were ones she vaguely remembered from the time before her mother died, traveling to and from school, and those she had taken with Lady Russell. While her father and Elizabeth were frequently to London, they did not take Anne, and it was just as well because their company alone would be insufferable. Those earliest of journeys had been happy ones, but as she was still a young child seemed in her memory to be interminable. The journeys with Lady Russell seemed quicker, but the traveling itself was not all that enjoyable as Lady Russell was easily sickened by the constant motion of the carriage, so Anne typically read and looked out the window, with very little companionship from Lady Russell.

While Anne was prepared with a book, she never had cause to open it. Mrs. Croft was a most lively traveling companion. While both Mrs. Holmes and Anne were much quieter by nature, Mrs. Croft had a way of drawing them in and getting all to participate in the conversation. Before the first day of travel had concluded, they had vowed they were all sisters in feeling and dispensed with all formalities between them. Thus, the lie they had told to secure Anne's companionship became a truth at least when it came to their feelings. Never, besides the time she spent with Frederick and the Robinsons, had Anne felt more accepted and happy with her present company. To be sure there was her constant desire to be with Frederick, but Anne resolved to enjoy the sisterhood she had most suddenly gained and not dwell overly long on the future she anticipated at the expense of not enjoying the time she was to have with these women.

 **BTW, for those wondering, we will see the content of Anne's letters to Frederick later.**


	22. Chapter 22

The ladies were able to reach Portsmouth in a single day from Somerset as the weather that Thursday in October 1811 was ideal for travel, though it was full dark when they arrived. When they reached the inn that was their destination, the hired coach was dispensed with after the coachman was thanked, paid, and had transferred their belongings to a servant of the inn. With great efficiency, Sophia handled all the arrangements and in far less time than Anne expected, she and Mirabella Holmes were bid by Sophia to go to the rooms secured for their party while Sophia handled other arrangements.

Anne was pleased enough by what she saw. While the small set of rooms was probably usually reserved for a lady and her maid, rather than for three women and the furnishings were older, everything was in excellent repair and very clean. One bed was larger than the other. It was clear two of them would need to occupy it, but that did not trouble her. She had shared a bed with her younger sister before and the idea of sharing with either of the other women was not objectionable.

Sophia's economy and self sufficiency surprised Anne, although it should not have. Though Sophia was now an admiral's wife, she was obviously well versed in handling things herself in an expeditious manner and with a care to the funds expended in the effort. Anne knew she had no cause to worry about anything at least at this stage of their trip. She knew that she had placed herself in most capable hands.

Though the issue had not been discussed, it did not appear to Anne that Sophia or Mirabella had a maid. She assumed that Mirabella could not afford one and Sophia seemed to have no need for one.

Anne nominally had a maid in her father's house, but the rest of the staff seeing how little use Anne made of her (primarily for dressing and some help with her hair), found all manner of other tasks to occupy Jemima and ease their loads, and as Jemima was a cheerful girl she undertook them without complaint. Jemima's role was in stark contrast to Jenny's role in assisting Elizabeth.

Jenny must always be available at any time of day for Miss Elliot, and between such summons was to carefully check her mistress's gowns, shoes, stocking and other garments for the least bit of wear or stain and to make sure everything that possibly could was made new again. Jenny lived in fear of missing something and being scolded for her lack of industry, thus she would scan garments and shoes endlessly. If she had no task, Jenny was to sit and wait for her mistress to summon her.

While Anne had wondered how dressing was to be handled without a maid, it had never occurred to her to take Jemima with her. She had no illusions that she could hire Jemima to serve her on the Laconia with its almost certain lack of accommodations for a single woman servant, or that Jemima would have any desire to live such a life, nor would Anne ever presume to incur such an expense to be charged to Frederick, even if Jemima be willing and accommodations available for her.

Jemima may have been disappointed to not be departing on what she believed was a trip of pleasure, but Anne could do nothing else but leave her behind, confident that she would easily fall into another role at Kellynch Hall. She could only hope that Jemima would keep her own counsel about the fact that Anne had refused to let her pack her trunk (fearing what Jemima might think about what might be contained in all those small vials and other supplies for her future role) and that Jemima did not notice that Anne had left no jewelry, journal or correspondence of significance behind.

While it had occurred to Anne to wonder how she would dress herself without a maid, she was not too troubled about the matter. There was a freedom about now being able to speak about things with Sophia and Mirabella openly and not having to resort to telling any further lies or half truths, a freedom that could not be had in front of a servant. While Anne felt justified in the deception she had employed in order to leave without causing undue turmoil to her family and godmother, it was not in her nature to feel comfortable being dishonest with others.

She supposed that a woman servant in the inn might be temporarily employed to dress them. She even imagined that the three of them might help each other to dress and undress, something she had never had her sisters do for her, though she had occasionally aided Mary, both when she was a young child and more recently when she fancied herself ill, or for a time after Mary delivered her sons. The idea of helping the others dress and undress, and having the same office performed for her by Sophia or Mirabella, was only a slightly uncomfortable notion to Anne, given the easy camaraderie they had fallen into over the day's journey.

Anne's mind briefly strayed to the who would perform such an office for her once she was married and living aboard Frederick's ship. Sophia would be away with Admiral Croft and Mirabella would likely be back with her family, however unwelcome a prospect it was for her (it upset Anne's kind heart to picture Mirabella back with people who did not appreciate her, and for not the first time Anne wondered if there was anything she could do to help her). It had not occurred to Anne in deciding which dresses to take on this trip to see if any of them were ones that she could button herself, and the undergarments she wore certainly could not be managed alone.

It occurred to Anne then that the logical solution was that her husband (she felt an exaltation in connecting the word "husband" with "Frederick") would need to learn to perform such offices for her. Then she could not help but consider what it would be like to feel Frederick's fingers against her back, unbuttoning her dress, unlacing her stays and easing her garments off. Anne had rarely indulged herself with thoughts about any sort of marital intimacies, but since reading Frederick's letter, she had found her thoughts increasingly prone to traveling in such a direction.

When the door swung open with a loud squeak to admit Sophia, Anne was startled out of such thoughts as she searched Sophia's face for any word as to what their destination should be. Sophia had returned with a pensive look upon her face.

"Admiral Croft left word, but the word he left was only that he had no better intelligence then that which Frederick shared when we met in July, that he was perhaps bound next for the West Indies; my dear Henry is endeavoring to find out more, but I am not sure how long that may take."

"Should we set out to the West Indies then?" Anne inquired, confused when Sophia and Mirabella exchanged looks with each other.

Mirabella clarified softly, "The West Indies contain a great many islands. It is not a simple destination that we could sail to. Without an idea of the ship's specific route, mission or ultimate destination, it is a fool's errand to venture there, could we even find a captain bound for that general area willing to convey us hither."

Anne blushed, she was no fool and had studied a great deal of geography to better understand where Frederick might sail to; of course what Mirabella told her was correct, but in Anne in her eagerness to seek Frederick out she had not stopped to consider the enormity of the potential area where a ship bound for the West Indies might end up.

Mirabella added, "Additionally, many of the islands there are hardly civilized. It is all well for men running plantations to be there to oversee their workers in the sugar trade. . ."

"Slaves, Mirabella, slaves. You need not hide the facts from Anne."

Sophia turned to Anne. "There have been slave uprisings on some of the plantations. I think it only right that men forced into slavery should attempt to escape such bonds, but I have no wish to be in danger, stuck on land, with no one to protect me should an uprising come to pass while I am present. Or even if it be a peaceful time, on some of those islands anything might befall a woman. It is not as if the men willing to oversee slaves by any means, including torture, are known to have respect for the proprieties that we take for granted in England. Too, there are many loathsome diseases and contagions. I shall never take you hither unless I could be certain Frederick would be there to meet us first."


	23. Chapter 23

**Now that I am down to one WIP, and my life has at least for the moment settled down, I would like to get back to a nearly daily posting schedule as soon as I finish another project (see below), but I need your encouragement to stay motivated.**

 **Thursday I did a lot of research to try to determine where Frederick's ship could be sent, how and where they could marry, and what type of adventures they could have while at sea. This is going to take a bit of time to work out and I even ordered a new book to read on my kindle and a couple of scholarly used books that I think will help me make it more realistic.**

 **Friday I read the whole e-book (Royal Navy versus the Slave Traders). It was a good read and gave me some good ideas and naval vernacular.**

 **On Saturday and Sunday I got a little sidetracked with what I thought would be** ** **a light edit of the novella-length, _A Bride for Bennet_ , my _Pride and Prejudice_ prequel (I thought it would be good practice before I tackle _Vindicating a Man of Consequence_ , which I am almost certain should be broken into a three-part story, with the challenges of their married life as a yet to be written third part), which quickly turned into another project. ** **

**So even if I'm not posting, know I am using my free time to work on my writing. Please try to be a little bit patient in waiting to see how Frederick and Anne will be reunited as I think the research will ultimately pay off in a better and more realistic story.**

Frederick was having trouble sleeping. He was wondering if Captain Croft's ship had yet returned to England and, if so, whether Sophia was even now trying to make the acquaintance of his beloved Anne. He told himself the lie that it was likely too early for his brother's ship to even have reached England, and, thus, quiet the part of him which was certain that his Sophia had reached Anne and his fate was already decided.

Since writing the letter to Anne, Frederick was in a different kind of agony than he was previously. During the day there was much to occupy his time, though less than usual as they were stuck in the doldrums, making few miles per day as the winds were negligible and the _Laconia_ was pulled along only slightly by the the currents. Their supplies were ample, but if the ship remained in the doldrums overly long, their better provisions would be quite reduced and his crew would eventually need to subsist on the hard tack and cured meat that kept one fed but did not satisfy.

Frederick felt stuck, too; he knew he was inexorably moving farther away from her.

Frederick was not made for inaction. He tried to tell himself that it would be an improvement to finally reach the trade winds. While those would blow him further away from Anne, at least he would be making progress toward fulfilling his mission. Then, perhaps, he could begin to anticipate eventually making that turn to the north to reach the westerlies which could guide him home.

Of course Frederick still did not know when and if his orders would give him permission to do what his heart wished.

He was half in agony and half in hope. He doubted, even now having received the reassurance of Mr. Robinson's letter, that Anne would be able to make that leap of faith to come to him and chided himself for ever asking it of her. Surely the fastest way to lose her forever was in asking what she could not give.

Anne was a sensible woman, this he well knew. He appreciated that about her. While she might more fully know her mind now than she did at nineteen, would not time have also made her more prudent? Frederick thought there was nothing prudent about running off to be with him. Anne, as far as he knew, had never been far from home except when at school (which he well knew she had hated), and on a trip or two with her godmother.

How was it then that he had asked her to leave everyone and everything dear to her behind on a foolhardy mission? And why had his sister encouraged it?

He questioned his own judgment and Sophia's. He told himself that from Sophia's lengthy time at sea that she must not remember the confined lives that other women had grown to expect. He told himself that he must have been half-crazed to agree to her attempt to escort Anne to him. He told himself that Captain Croft would never forgive him if somehow as a result both she and Anne were lost.

It did not help that when he did sleep he experienced the most vivid of dreams. There were happy dreams in which an English ship approached where his ship was docked and he could see Anne on the deck, and when taking out his long glass could make out every vivid detail of her face, and could see the exact moment that she saw him, her uncontainable delight. He then took a small boat over to that ship, climbed aboard and took her in his arm, laying kiss upon kiss on her, with no concern for what others would see. Then, somehow, they would be at a small church, pledging themselves to one another, and then he would be carrying her aboard his own ship as his crew cheered.

Then there were the uncertain dreams, when all at first seemed well, they were together, but then something was keeping them apart. It might be a crowd that separated them, a flock of birds, a field that grew ever larger, a gap between the ships they were on widening. Whatever was separating them would ebb and flow like the tide and she would stay near enough that he could see her, but too far for him to ever grab her hand and draw her to his side.

But the worst dreams were the nightmares when he would be struggling mightily to save her from some calamity, but could not move or could only move very slowly, like he was mired in a deep mud, or whatever he needed to save her could not be located or grasped. It might be that her dress caught on fire while she was upon his ship, but the buckets were all empty and the casks of water dry, and he could not locate a single piece of cloth to suffocate the flames, not even so much as a handkerchief. It might be that she was drowning and he was held back from swimming for her, or she was sinking under the water and he was somehow too buoyant to dive below the waves. It might be that he saw a cannon ball, grapeshot or musket fire launched in her direction and when he tried to yell and warn her to duck, his voice would not work and his attempts to physically reach her were for naught, as if he was moving incredibly slowly and he watched the moment she was hit and hurt while he remained in perfect health. Always, a moment or two after the worst happened, he would wake up, gasping for breath, his heart thundering in his chest, sweat slicking his skin.

Frederick was not a man of faith, or rather he had faith in his own abilities, faith in his luck, faith in his instincts, rather than faith in a God who could not be seen. Frederick believed in the physical world, what his own senses could show him, what he could accomplish himself. It was not normally in him to petition for assistance. He tended to look down on those who did that, rather than seeking to improve their condition or lot in life themselves through hard work.

However, when waking from such nightmares, Frederick found himself offering a short prayer like, "Keep her safe, even if it means she is never with me." It did not help much, but there was nothing else he could do.


	24. Chapter 24

The next morning after yet another restless night, Frederick considered whether there was anyone aboard his ship that he could talk to about the situation with Anne. Captains as a rule did not typically have friends or confidants aboard. Or perhaps other captains did, but Frederick was not one of them.

He had friends a plenty among the crew he served with when he was a midshipman and even a lieutenant, but things were different when he was in charge. It would not do to seem to be favoring one of his men over another, though of course the higher ranked the man, the more he would interact with him as was only natural to keep the ship and its crew performing as it ought. However he kept his discussions with such men focused on their duties as much as he could.

When Frederick thought he ought, such as when it seemed to be impacting one of his men's performance, he might inquire about the man's family or whatever seemed to be troubling him. He would listen to other men talk about their concerns and often learn more than he wanted to know. He kept their personal matters to himself. Frederick did his best to show them compassion, but he would not let them use such matters as an excuse for shirking of duties, angry outbursts and the like.

Where other men might let their personal problems distract them, Frederick used to joke that he was married to his ship, that she was the first thing he thought about when he woke up and the last thing he thought about at night. It was not really true (for far longer than he had a right to do so, Anne usually occupied his thoughts in those minutes before his day began and ended).

The _Laconia_ was only wood, metal and cloth. While commanding her was Frederick's greatest professional achievement thus far, she would likely have a much shorter life on the sea than the men who rode on her decks, masts, on her riggings and in her belly.

The _Laconia_ was precious, though, because she protected and carried him and his men upon an ocean that was willing and able to swallow them whole. She had a nimbleness and fleetness among the best of what the navy had to offer in a frigate. She enabled him to serve, protect and support the British Empire more so than even a member of Parliament. For what could those men do but pass laws, the success of many which would flounder, were nothing without the navy to see them through. Men sacrificed their lives for such things and Frederick would do the same if needed.

Not for the first time, Frederick considered how glad he was to be occupying a profession where advancement could not be bought, where merit mattered. True, being well connected was an advantage and the children of important families might be expected to climb the ranks more quickly, or not to receive the punishment they well and truly deserved.

There were many who might linger as midshipmen when they had the experience and wisdom to captain a vessel, but it was Frederick's belief that at least most of those that well and truly deserved to rise would eventually. They could improve their chances by impressing their superiors, showing bravery in battle, formulating a creative solution to a problem, and being lucky.

Frederick believed in luck. He had seen too many occurrences which pointed to it, far too many to think what occurred to each man's destiny was simply a matter of chance.

Luck or lack of it could place a man in a location where in the heat of a battle he should have been wounded or killed, but received not but a tiny scratch which could have occurred in many daily activities while those nearby all perished. Lack of luck seemed to be responsible when men cut down in the prime of life or even while still boys just from being a foot too much to the right or left, being a second too early or too late, standing up or bending down at the wrong time, being at the wrong spot in the rigging, standing too close to an ill loaded cannon that seemed no different from its fellows or inexplicably angering the wrong person with an innocuous comment or even just a glance.

Frederick had known men whose entire lives seemed charmed. They drew the best cards, happened to slip on a wet deck at the most opportune moment to avoid an enemy's cutlass, caught the prettiest girl's eye by happenstance.

Frederick recalled one incident when he was certain a midshipman, Drake, who everyone agreed was very lucky, had just had his luck run out. Drake seemed certain to perish when he inexplicably stayed upright when an attacking French vessel with more guns, met the Laconia with its broadside. Frederick had ordered all to duck and wait out its first assault before returning fire when the two ships were closest to each other. Everyone was yelling at Drake to lie down, but then suddenly everything hit at once, wood splintering toward him and yet somehow all the fragments avoided him but for a fragment that skittered off his musket to fall harmlessly to his side.

Another man, on his belly a foot or two from him, and partially shielded by Drake, caught an unfortunate shard of wood that pierced one of his eyes and cut a deep groove through the other, costing him one eye entirely and partially blinding his other eye. The man on the other side of Drake had his throat ripped out by another wood shard and lost his life before there was even time to aid him. A third man nearby suffered powder burns and a nasty gash to his shin which became infected and cost him his leg.

The men afterwards claimed that Drake somehow diverted the harm he deserved to the men around him and resolved to stay away from him. However within a matter of days it seemed they had forgotten all about it, and welcomed him back into their company, perhaps another sign of his luck.

Frederick knew, though, that luck could be a fickle lady. Sometimes it seemed that a significant catastrophe was imposed to balance a man's accounts. He had wondered if losing Anne was needed to balance out the luck he had in being named a commander while their was yet no ship for him, and immediately after losing her when he was desperate to gain a ship let him acquire the _Asp_ and then have such success aboard her with the fairest weather, rather than having her vanish into the sea with himself aboard. Losing his dearest love might thus be the thing which allowed him to succeed to the _Laconia_ and already gain a substantial fortune.

Was he tempting fate to be seeking to be reunited with Anne? Would he have to pay a large price as a result, or even perhaps have himself or her struck down? Frederick hoped not. Luck could not be so cruel to him, could it?

For not the first time, he wished to talk with someone aboard about Anne.


	25. Chapter 25

After yet another day of only ghosting, making few miles and having to soothe the tempers of restless men (an annoying task to be sure, Frederick had no wish to act as a sort of nursery maid diffusing tantrums and resolving pointless shouting matches without inflicting the corporal punishments which would likely only worsen the men's mood) when Frederick retired to his cabin his mind seemed to immediately snap back to the problem of whether there might be anyone aboard that he could confide in about Anne. He thought through likely candidates going down the ranks. Although many of the men might have compassion upon him and his situation, it seemed that for each of the senior wardroom officers, there was a reason why he would be a poor choice.

Frederick's first impulse was to discuss the matter with his second in command, but that could not be, simply based on the trouble it would engender with his third in command, one Lieutenant Dowding. Although more than a decade Frederick's senior, Dowding did not have his own ship yet (and would likely not be recommended for promotion by Frederick for the same reason) because he had trouble guarding his tongue.

A commander or captain needed to keep his own counsel. There would be times when a captain might get orders that dismayed him or have an officer confide in him about a matter of some delicacy (perhaps a conflict between two petty officers that could best be resolved by having them work different watches) but it would not do for the rest of the crew to know.

Frederick had quickly learned when Dowding was placed upon his ship that anything told to him would soon be communicated to the entire crew. Frederick suspected that Dowding found spreading scuttlebutt a way of integrating himself with his inferiors and enjoyed the sound of his own voice overmuch. In all other respects he was a competent and reliable officer and yet Frederick could not wait to get him off his ship.

His other lieutenant was a few years Frederick's junior. Lieutenant Benwick, while greener than Dowding, had the makings of a fine captain in Frederick's opinion, though in temperament he was very different from Frederick. Benwick was always with his books when not on duty. He liked to contemplate the deeper questions in life and could spend hours trying to derive all possible meaning from a few lines in a poem. Fredrick thought perhaps Benwick should have found his occupation in the church rather than at sea.

Yet all that time in contemplation also meant that he was excellent at strategy and seemed to be able to quickly size up a man's character and know what approach would get the best work out of him. Frederick would hate to lose Benwick but it would not be fair to keep him from his own command especially as he knew Benwick had some interest in courting Captain Harville's sister.

Benwick previously served under Captain Harville. Frederick had as well, though they had not served under Captain Harville on the _Percival_ at the same time. It was Frederick becoming a commander though turned ashore on half-pay in the year six while the _Percival_ was being repaired at Plymouth by the ship's husband. Frederick leaving the _Percival_ created an opening in the ranks. Benwick received his posting a few weeks before the _Percival_ was fit for duty again, taking the lowest lieutenant vacancy left when others moved up the ranks.

Captain Harville's wife and sister had joined him in Plymouth to spend as much time with him as they could before he departed for the sea again. When Mrs. Harville heard her husband's latest officer knew almost no one in Plymouth, save for the family he was renting a room from, she insisted that he join them for dinner a time or two and it was at these dinners that he met Miss Fanny Harville.

While Frederick had never met Miss Harville, even from only being in company with her a few times, Benwick seemed to greatly admire her. He had admitted as much to Frederick one day about six months prior to the present when the two of them were the first ones to arrive at the officer's mess, though he uttered not a word stating it was so. Now Benwick was a fine one at keeping his own counsel but Frederick was most discerning when perceiving the trappings of a man in love and Benwick's very conduct communicated all that Frederick needed to know to confirm his instinct about it.

On that occasion Benwick was reviewing a letter he had received from Captain Harville on the packet ship that reached them the previous day, and knowing that Frederick knew Harville and as no one else was yet around, Benwick read the letter to him. Frederick was cheered by the letter. Captain Harville had occasion to see Mrs. Harville, his sister and his children and gave an amusing story regarding the visit. When Benwick read a line devoted entirely to what Miss Harville was doing, Benwick read the line aloud most slowly with a cadence and rhythm that was similar to how he recited poems that he had memorized. He also paused before resuming the letter which he read in the typical fashion. That little hint was enough for Frederick to confirm that Benwick was certainly not indifferent when it came to Miss Harville.

Of course, Frederick already had a basis for suspecting as much. While Frederick kept his own counsel about the matter, Captain Harville had mentioned a mutual attraction between his sister and Benwick in a letter to Frederick shortly after he learned that Benwick's new position was aboard the _Laconia_. Captain Harville thought they would be a fair match but that they must have a bit more time together before anything could be sorted and even if it could then, Benwick would need to gain some prize money and further promotions before they could marry if all worked out as Captain Harville anticipated.

Frederick had already resolved to make such a recommendation for Benwick's promotion upon his return, not because Benwick would need it before he married, but because Benwick deserved it. Frederick considered the irony that by giving honest recommendations he was stuck with Dowding but must eventually lose Benwick (though when this event would take place was an uncertain matter, the admiralty and how it decided on promotions was still a fair mystery to him, he knew how it should work, but it seldom seemed to work that way). Frederick suspected that Dowding had received his promotion and appointment to the _Laconia_ because a fellow captain wished to be rid of him.

Lieutenant Dowding, having been passed over many times, would be sensitive as to any hint that Frederick was recommending Benwick's promotion for personal reasons. Therefore, although Benwick was who Frederick would most like to talk to about Anne, he did not dare to show any hint he was favoring Benwick and it would be natural if he shared something so personal with Benwick that the natural affinity between them would increase.

The Captain of the Marines, Galpin, was very competent in his role and Frederick had no particular complaints about his character or ability to keep a confidence. Confiding in him would have the advantage that he was not a rival of Dowding, but Frederick felt no particular affinity with him. They did not spend much time together as he was occupied, and rightfully so, with commanding his Lobsters. So while he was a good choice, Frederick ultimately decided against him.

Next he considered the junior wardroom officers. First up was his sailing master. Frederick did not want to think that he viewed this man who had come through the ranks as his inferior, and indeed he knew he could trust Coombs with his life, yet Frederick did not want to trust him with the tender feelings of his heart. Coombs was a man who, though of advancing years, had no wife and seemingly had no desire for one. Instead, he was seemingly the first man to welcome the doxies that anxiously awaited ships preparing to dock and his great compatriot in such endeavors was the purser.

They were always telling ribald stories about their exploits, stories that though Frederick should be immune to by now, still managed to pink his ears on occasion. Unlike some captains, Frederick had no desire to try to curb his crew members' behavior when they were at port. He felt they had earned the right to enjoy themselves as they would when off duty. He merely asked that the ship always come first when they were on duty and he did not worry about the rest.

Many men would talk with a chaplain when they were troubled and the men who were in such positions were used to keeping confidences, but Frederick had no sin regarding Anne to confess. Too, he no longer had a chaplain aboard. His last chaplain had died of a prolonged illness and that man of God had not died well, blubbering and raving at the end, begging all that would listen for his life as if the ship's officers might have some authority over life and death and as if there was no afterlife to pass into. It was rather depressing that in the end he seemed to have no belief in the thing that his occupation was all about.

The ship's surgeon, Mr. Dash, had done his best to help the chaplain while in sickbay, but seemed more proficient with tending to wounds than illnesses. Frederick supposed, though, that there was nothing to be done on many occasions than to make sure an ill man had plenty of water and loblolly and then wait to see whether the man's body would be bear up during the ensuing struggle between life and death. At least the surgeon faithfully visited the chaplain twice a day as he was supposed to do and while there did what he could for him.

Frederick respected Mr. Dash. While perhaps not the best at treating illnesses, he had quite a bit of technical proficiency with repairing wounded men. It seemed to be as much art as science to stitch together a man whose muscles, skin and other parts that Frederick did not even know the names of, which had been rent apart from some trauma or another, into a working whole.

Frederick himself had a deep gash along his left arm skillfully repaired by Mr. Dash, which left only a narrow flat scar. He was lucky that such was the only real marring which had occurred to his flesh in all his years in the navy, other than a slightly bent finger, the result of a broken bone which Mr. Dash opined should have been straightened before being bound.

Frederick had been only a midshipman when that minor injury occurred as a result of his finger getting caught while he was aloft. Somehow one of his hands had slipped from the knob knot and in trying to prevent a fall his finger got tangled in the rigging. His captain at that time, who seemed to notice everything, noted the handkerchief he had bound about it and sent him to the ship's surgeon.

That surgeon was of a prior generation to this one. He was grizzled, cantankerous and an old salt.

When Frederick showed him his crooked and swollen right index finger, the man had said, "What do you expect me to do, snotty?"

Perhaps if Frederick had been a ranked man at the time rather than an officer in training, he would have said the first thing that came to mind, which was, "Your job, man." Instead Frederick only said, "The captain told me to see you, but not what he expected you to do."

The surgeon gave a bit of a snort, held Frederick's finger up to the light and said, "The bone has not pierced the skin so you will heal all right, I suppose. Bind it to the finger next to it and avoid using it in going aloft while it heals. It may continue to bruise and swell but so long as the bone does not pierce the skin, there is no horrid smell and no red streak appears on your arm, you need not see me again."

The surgeon glanced at Frederick's knuckles then and said, "If you think you are prone to slipping fingers, you should perhaps get your knuckles tattooed with 'hold fast'; it works for some, although I wager you would rather keep your hands unmarked, a smart looking fellow like yourself. Listen to me now, when you meet a pretty gal make sure you have come up with a sufficiently good story for why your finger is the way it will end up."

None of the things the surgeon warned Frederick against came to pass and so Frederick did not see him again. While he considered his other advice, he did not act on it.

Thinking about the current surgeon, Mr. Dash, and that past one, made Frederick think of Anne. It occurred to him that he was expecting her, if she indeed was able to come to him, to serve in a role that might be considered to be usurping the domain of the surgeon or his mates; that gave him a good reason to talk to Mr. Dash about Anne, which he resolved to do in the morning.


	26. Chapter 26

**It has been a while since I thanked reviewers, so shout-outs to A Fan, Guests, nanciellen, liysyl, and Shey72. It means a lot when you take the time to write a little something.**

 **I hope y'all have been liking the last couple of chapters. No news, or in this case almost no reviews when I know I'm getting views, is good news, right? I am guessing that I will get more comments when I post** **more forward action on Frederick's and Anne's reunion. The past couple of chapters and this one have been necessary in my opinion to help you know what is going on with life aboard the _Laconia_ so that when (not if, I wouldn't be that mean) Anne is aboard that you understand some of the dynamics at play so we that I don't have to slow down the action to explain a lot of background things when we are seeing their new life together. I don't want this to be a "they get married and that's the end" type of story.**

 **I am still doing research. I finally found the time to read through the Dictionary of Vulgar Tongue and will be using a few words from it from now on. I also did some research on the history of venereal disease which was a huge issue on naval ships and stumbled on a great resource for finding about what medical treatments on ships were like, www dot nationalarchives dot gov dot uk / surgeonsatsea / which has actual journals and diaries of royal naval surgeons from 1793 to 1880 which I am sure will be a treasure trove; I've only had time to look at the highlights guide.  
**

 **Fair warning, there is a fairly extensive discussion of prostitution and venereal disease in this chapter but there is some humor in using all the funny slang words which you should more of less be able to figure out in context (if you have any questions I'll explain).  
**

 **Also coming up, though not in this chapter, we will find out why Mrs. Holmes's family has treated her so badly besides her dependence on them due to her relative poverty. Does anyone have a guess? It may not be what you expect. I'd like to get her into a better situation by the end of the story but am still considering how to do that.**

The next morning Frederick was still resolute about arranging to talk to the ship surgeon about Anne. The complication with talking with anyone aboard the ship was that given the lack of space aboard by necessity there were very few places they could go to talk in private where others would not be entering and exiting to go about their duties. However, Frederick met weekly with Mr. Dash for a report about the crew's health, sooner if there was a particular concern that needed prompt addressing. They had a practice of meeting in the sickbay for such reports and early on they had established it was the better practice to speak without the surgeon's mates or loblolly boys able to hear them as certain matters were better discussed without any in attendance.

A common discussion topic that Frederick would have preferred to avoid, was who among the crew had been diagnosed and was being treated for venereal disease, a pernicious ailment with dire consequences whose frequent discussion in graphic details by Mr. Dash curbed any more recent temptation for Frederick to indulge with those who peddled their bodies to his crew at each port. While most of those women were in poor condition and his crew should have expected they might be diseased, when offered an opportunity to dock with them they seemed not to consider that they might be dirty puzzles. Frederick wished to believe that there was less chance of becoming frenchified from better nunneries that the officers tended to visit. Undoubtedly those had both cleaner women of pleasure and the Corinthians should be less likely to be infected themselves, but had not quiffed any himself.

This was not out of a moralist or religious belief that such action was wrong. Undoubtedly, it was wrong to participate in such debauchery and provide a market for the selling of woman's commodity, but Frederick knew Miss Laycock would always be in demand.

Instead, while he did not see his father often while he had yet to join a ship and his father was away on his own, he remembered a most serious conversation they had when he was little more than a lad which was later reinforced in other conversations and allusions to it in letters. His father gave him the following advice which Frederick never forgot:

"Freddy, I have known too many good men who after visiting ladies of easy virtue, whether at a respectable bawdy house or taking a flyer with a romp, who come back having burned his poker. One night of rogering can lead to a lifetime of mercury, which never cures and may even kill. The clap can result in an infection of the tallywags and a pego that does not work. However, the French disease is worse. I have known men who eventually ended up with fallen noses, blindness, went mad and died. Furthermore, a man who indulges in this manner can bring these illnesses to his wife and afflict any children she may bear. Please, please Freddy, listen to your father. Never treat your tackle as a whore pipe. A few minutes of mowing can ruin your whole life. That bottomless pit that the cat shares with you is aptly called man trap. Instead, marry a virtuous woman and enjoy congress with her."

With such foreknowledge, when Frederick was aboard his first ship along with listening to all the bawdy talk (of which there was an endless supply, men bragging about making the buttock ball, enjoying a muff, discussing the dairy and pitcher on a Covenant Garden Nun, talking about how his hair splitter took cock alley with a Drury Lane vestal, how a female screw's dugs bounced while riding St. George), he also noted things that perhaps the other lads would not have. He heard men complain of having to see the ship's surgeon for treatments, of pissing pins and needles, he saw one man's yard that had sores, he heard another man mention his dropping member which had the gleets, and he even saw how a man with open ulcers upon his skin sickened further and died (and the whispered comment that he had suffered for years with the Drury Lane Ague). So Frederick, by the time he was old enough to consider amorous congress, was fully convinced of the veracity of his father's wisdom.

When Frederick met Anne he was convinced that his father had the right of it. He would happily commit to the mousetrap, knowing that he could enjoy the feather-bed jig with her. This was also why he was so eager to marry even before he had begun his first command. He would not be one of these men who married, left a wife and then joined gibblets with a lady of easy virtue at the first opportunity. Far better to marry and keep her close.

Even when Anne had ended their engagement and Frederick was tempted to visit a nanny house, he refrained both because he knew the potential consequences and because the idea of enjoying another's bushel bubby and quim was distasteful. Frederick was glad of this decision when he became captain of the _Laconia_ and began getting Mr. Dash's crew reports. The sheer number of men afflicted with venus's curse, the clap or both was astonishing, nearly a third of the crew.

As Mr. Dash was at the central mast each morning for the sick call in which any who were newly sick were to report, along with the able-bodied wounded still undergoing treatment, Frederick went ahead and attended to his regular morning duties which included getting a report from the night watch and other status reports. As they were still becalmed, the weather was clear and no other ships had been spotted, there was nothing much to report. Still that took a bit of time and when these meetings were concluded Frederick expected that Mr. Dash would likely be found in his office.

Mr. Dash's office was a tiny room tucked into the corner of his sickbay, which consisted of little more than a fold down shelf that functioned as a writing desk that jutted out from a bookcase built into the wall which was filled with medical reference books, with locking containers built into the opposite wall in which herbs and more expensive equipment was stored along with the logbooks that recorded the crew's condition and treatments, and two sturdy stools that nested to conserve space when not in use. This room also had a small locking door which enabled privacy, though Mr. Dash generally did not close it unless talking about something confidential as the room had no ventilation making it stifling to have it remain in such a state overly long, but which avoided anyone listening in. He did lock it at night to try to dissuade any who might attempt to treat themselves to his medicines.

Mr. Dash looked up from his writing when he heard Frederick's steps, with a slightly quizzical expression on his face. Frederick imagined Mr. Dash was wondering why he was there when it was Tuesday and not Friday, when they normally met. Still, Mr. Dash gestured him inside, though he did not rise (as early on Frederick had established he did not want such formalities from his wardroom officers). Frederick closed the door and took the remaining stool as Mr. Dash lay down his quill and turned toward Frederick. As the shelf was still jutting out with the open logbook, ink-pot and quill upon it, their knees nearly touched.

"What may I do for you, Captain?" Mr. Dash asked, one eyebrow slightly quirked with curiosity. Though he had been a ship surgeon for more than twenty years, his manner of speech with his captain and other gentlemen officers revealed his education. Mr. Dash likely had the most education of anyone aboard, though Benwick had self-educated himself about many things that would serve him well in parlor conversation but less well on a ship; Frederick had, too, but the things he chose to learn were largely practical and related to what he believed he needed to know to most effectively command the ship. However, Mr, Dash

"I wish to speak to you about a matter of some importance," Frederick began, "which has to do with your duties. I am trusting in your discretion to keep the matter I am about to discuss with you private."

"I take it you were not really having dinner with your sister a couple of months past when in port. Temptation is hard for anyone to resist. You never need fear I would tell the crew anything that is the matter with your sugar stick or twiddle-diddles," Mr. Dash answered and then not giving Frederick time to reply asked, "Venus's curse afflicts many, as does the clap. Have you a discharge, sores or a shanker?"

Frederick gave a short barking laugh, "No, it is nothing like that, though it does involve a matter of the heart, which would likely have the most effect on you and your mates. I truly was visiting my sister, Mrs. Croft. I had dinner with her and her husband Captain Croft."

Mr. Dash leaned forward, clearly curious.

"I may be getting married and bringing my bride to live on our ship," Frederick revealed, "and Miss Anne Elliot has been training with an apothecary in the healing arts, so as to have purpose once aboard. However, it has occurred to me that this is a matter in which you may wish to be heard before such an event transpires."

Mr. Dash leaned back in apparent astonishment, managing to bump his elbow on the writing shelf with enough force that he gasped in pain and upset his ink-pot. The next few moments were spent in cleaning up the resulting mess while Frederick waited.

Frederick thought Mr. Dash was taking his time in cleaning up while he considered the matter. But finally there was nothing more that could be done to fix the darkened stain, short of sanding the wood later.

When Mr. Dash resumed his seat, his writing implements and journal tucked away, he said evenly, "I did not know you were seeking to become a tenant for life. I have never heard mention of her before."

"In the year six for a brief time Miss Elliot was my betrothed. She nearly broke my heart when she was persuaded by others to give me up. You see at the time I had been named a commander but as of then had no ship and uncertain prospects. I have recently learned that she has been hoping I would renew my addresses and had even gone so far as to study diligently to be a nurse as I once blithely suggested would be a way for her to assist me once I had a ship and we were married."

"I have heard of captains whose wives live aboard, though I have never served on a ship with such an arrangement."

Mr. Dash grimaced and paused, apparently thinking, before adding in a respectful though firm tone, "In my opinion it ought never be attempted but as you are the captain it is your decision not mine."

He said more softly, almost to himself, "To think this ship may end up a hen frigate; will she then be the captain?"

Mr. Dash then sat up straighter and proclaimed, "Sickbay is my domain and I will not be gainsaid here. I will not have someone who had dabbled in the medical arts mucking about with my medical arrangements, harming men through her ignorance, though I suppose she might be some use in tending to delirious men calling for their wives and mothers."

"I cannot speak to precisely how much she knows," Frederick said evenly, trying not to let his irritation show, perhaps it had been overly optimistic to think that Mr. Dash would welcome Anne's help, "but knowing her and based on the letter I received from the apothecary training her, I imagine she is more well prepared than you would imagine. Surely you would not deny her an opportunity to assist you without at least getting a measure of her knowledge?"

"I suppose not," Mr. Dash told him. "However, are you sure you are not thinking more with your silent flute than with your upper story? A ship is no place for a woman, especially one who plans to spend time with your crew. Would you really relish her spending time alone with me, my mates and our patients? You ought not to have encouraged her in such a manner; far better to have encouraged her to mend men's slops or entertain us all by learning to become a gut scrapper. We could all enjoy some fiddled tunes."


	27. Chapter 27

As Frederick left Mr. Dash and proceeded with his other duties for the day he felt a strong sense of dissatisfaction. He heard himself being short tempered, which was unusual for him as he was not typically a peevish person.

Mr. Dash's reaction had not been what Frederick anticipated. Rather than gaining a confidante, he had gained additional worries. He supposed it was well that if Anne could someday be onboard that he had learned what he had about Mr. Dash's reaction, however there was very little he could do to make things easier for her in gaining Mr. Dash's approbation.

Mr. Dash had also raised additional worries to the forefront of Frederick's mind. In the moments that he was not beset with interactions with his crew and could think and observe instead, he began to examine all the day-to-day activities of his ship with new eyes. He wondered how Anne, a woman of gentle birth, would respond to the realities of life aboard a ship.

At least in being a woman and also having his ear, he doubted his men would be disrespectful of her. To, he did a good job of enforcing discipline on board, but he imagined that as they got used to her presence they would forget themselves and talk about things unfit for a maiden's ear. But in thinking of that, Frederick corrected himself; she would be a maiden no longer, she would be his wife and know the ways of the flesh. She would be different then, than she was now.

It was a strange thought in a way, that before and after she became his rib, he would still be Captain Wentworth. He would not be expected to be different but she would have a whole other identity as his wife.

Yet even after they became one flesh, he could not but imagine Anne blushing from things his crew might say and do. He doubted she would ever fully lose her innocence in the way Sophia had. Frederick doubted Anne had ever been around the types of humanity that sailors were with their bawdy talk, ribald humor, and coarse ways.

He wondered if his crew would accept her or would they always think of her as simply live lumber. Even knowing they were spliced, would his men see her through lustful eyes as a prime article, hope to "accidentally" bump into her diddeys, imagine occupying her?

Frederick, having grown up the child of a captain, could never remember not knowing something about the naval life, though his mother and siblings were ashore. His sister, too, knew much of sailing life before she ever ventured aboard a ship. He wondered whether he had assumed Anne would take to such a life as easily as he and Sophia had, without truly understanding how little she could know of such a life.

Too, he was frustrated that he still had no one to confide in about both his hopes and worries regarding Anne. He kept the letter from Mr. Robinson, though the letter was not addressed to him.

That night when he was in his cabin, he gave himself leave to reflect on the letter once again. There were certain phrases that Mr. Robinson wrote that Frederick had committed to his memory because they evoked such a clear picture of Anne to him. _Capable_ : he had always known that Anne was most capable at anything she decided was worth doing. He remembered many small kindnesses she had shown the people around her, many small acts of charity, she could do so much without ever seeking the barest bit of praise. Then add to capable, _capable student_ : Frederick had no doubt that Anne would be willing to learn anything that Mr. Dash would choose to teach her, if only he decided she was worthy of such knowledge, but if Mr. Robinson thought she was worthy of the title of apothecary but for her sex, how could anyone else not find her worthy?

However, the next paragraph was so much better, with all the adjectives Mr. Robinson recounted as relating to Anne, starting with _remarkable woman_. Frederick knew Anne was a remarkable woman, so much more remarkable than her eldest sister who while lovely was as cold as the ice from northern climes. It was one reason that as soon as he knew he wanted to marry Anne he had not wished to delay in claiming her hand. Surely many other men would want Anne as a wife; he needed to secure her before one of them might take her from him.

And then there were all the other descriptors Mr. Robinson applied to her: _steadfast, devoted, humble, capable, sweet, kind, loyal, intelligent and discerning._ There had been a time when Frederick thought she was not steadfast, devoted or loyal as she had given him up. But apparently he had been horribly wrong in not realizing that it was not that she was not steadfast, devoted, and loyal, but that she had divided loyalties, and rightly so, to the woman who was as a mother to her.

How could he, knowing what Anne was like, so sweet and kind, not have sought her out after gaining a real ship and captaincy, and thrown himself on his knees and begged her to renew the promises they had exchanged so long ago? His present agony, of having to wait while uncertain of his fate, was all his own doing.

He felt a contempt in his breast for himself. He thought, Anne while I supposed you were not steadfast, devoted, and loyal, it was I who was not those things. I doubted, feared, and acted cowardly.

And Anne would never sing her own praises, she was truly humble. She was capable, sweet, kind, intelligent and discerning. He was not worthy of her. Yet she still had _hope_ , hoped that he would renew his addresses. _Hope_ which made her seek out training as a nurse, so she could _serve_ him and his crew.

He was not worthy of such devotion, and yet when another man proposed, a man that her godmother apparently favored, who had everything to recommend him, _she refused to be persuaded. Refused to obey . . . regretted breaking her engagement_ to me. All she wanted from Frederick was a _delay_ in their marriage, a delay that long ago could have expired. She was still _devoted_ and would have reassured him of that. She had _constancy_ towards him.

 _Too good a woman_. Yes, she is too good a woman for me, Frederick thought, and yet, I sent my sister after her, hoping against hope that my beloved will come, but what will she come to? Is it really right of me to ask this of her, that she give up everything for me and my tiny cabin, to live as the only women in a sea of coarse men?

She must not _linger forever_ but perhaps, just perhaps Frederick thought, I should have given her up forever, told her that I would _never return_ rather than trying to _renew my addresses._ Was trying to get her to come to me _what is best for her_? What kind of _reward_ for her _love_ , am I giving her? How can I _be worthy_ of her? Should I not have attempted to _relieve her suffering_ by asking her to find another?

As these thoughts lingered in his head he gradually passed into sleep. So gradual was the process that in his dream he believed he was still awake. This dream was different from any other. In the dream he saw Anne lying next to him on his bed. Her hair, which he had never seen down, tumbled far longer than he would have imagined. He had the sense that she was a bit older than when he had seen her last, perhaps a bit thinner as well but her features were all the same. She was wearing a dressing gown, which showed her curves a bit more than a dress would. He wanted to kiss her and hold her tight; he wanted to nudge the dressing gown off of her shoulders, to see what lay beneath, but he waited for her to come to him.

She stayed on her half of the bed, but turned onto her side toward him. She reached out and tousled his hair, gently stroked the side of his face that had the roughness of evening when he only shaved every morning.

She whispered softly, "My dear Freddy, how glad am I that you are now come to bed." He reflected upon how good it sounded to be called "Freddy" from her lips. It was an intimate address, for him alone. She said it differently somehow from how his family said it when he was a lad. It was sensual and hinted at other times when she had said his name in moments of passion, moments that somehow he could not remember, though he knew such moments were delightful, satisfied all his years of longing, gave him all he desired. He was feeling so good, with her there that he almost missed her next words.

Anne told him, "Freddy, living aboard your ship is quite different than I would have ever imagined it to be, and so much better, too. I need nothing more than to be with you and to be useful, and I have gained both of these things here. I was nothing to my father and older sister than someone who occupied space. To my younger sister I was nothing but the person who tended to her when everyone else had enough of her faked illnesses. To my godmother, I was simply a placeholder for my dead mother; she loved me, it is true, but she wished to keep me with her like a bird in a cage."

She gave a little sigh and then a half smile. "Here, no one cares that my father is a Baronet, no one cares that I came from a prominent family, no one cares who I was before and I like it that way. I have taken on a new identity here. I am the wife of the captain, I am Mrs. Wentworth, who helps Mr. Dash. Mrs. Wentworth who helps the young lads that never learned to read gain the skill they shall need for advancement. Mrs. Wentworth who soothes Captain Wentworth before he might be overly harsh with punishments, but will not restrain you from meting out appropriate punishments. I like that I can in some small way assist you and your crew, make your burdens easier, give you someone to confide in and aid them, too. The life of a sailor is not easy, but then I never thought it was. Yet, somehow, this is the life I was always meant to have."

In the dream she leaned over and gently kissed him and clasped him to her. Frederick was quite disappointed when he awoke and realized he was still alone. Yet the dream gave him a sense of wellbeing, that it was not wrong of him to hope and dream she would choose this life and someday soon be married to him.


	28. Chapter 28

**I have no idea what naval seafaring wives might have worn (there is precious little information about them), but it seemed like a regular dress would not be the best idea** **and my imagination went wild from there.**

While Captain Croft and Sophia had landed together at Portsmouth and that is where she left him as his soon to be former ship was undergoing repairs while she proceeded to collect first Mirabella in London and then Anne in Somersetshire, he had not remained in Portsmouth. Instead, he was ordered to Plymouth to examine what would be his assigned flagship when he was formally promoted to admiral. The letter he left for her at the inn had, in addition to telling her he had no further information about the _Laconia_ 's next assignment, informed her of his departure thither and which friend to write to most easily reach him. Naturally, Sophia had written her husband immediately on receiving his missive and expected a prompt reply.

While in Portsmouth the ladies used their available time well. The morning after they arrived, Sophia showed Anne a curious dress from her trunk. Sophia explained that she had more or less invented it, in a series of experiments with her own clothing as she sought to sew a dress that would allow for modesty, for a woman to dress herself, and for the movement necessary on a shifting boat. The front wrapped and buttoned on the sides under the arms and was looser to allow for ease of movement. The skirts were less full and shorter than Anne was used to but had something like breeches stitched into them, which Sophia explained closely resembled the kind of breeches the crew wore as part of their slops. When the front of the dress was opened, the front of what she termed the underbreaches opened as well. Sophia showed them a handkerchief that had a button hole which allowed her to attach it onto one of the buttons under the arm and a small pocket that could be buttoned on the other side.

Sophia explained her reasoning behind the dress design. "Men aboard a ship wear looser clothing as they have to stand with their feet well spaced to maintain stability and looser clothing allows a woman to do the same. Sometimes a sudden swell might cause you to list for a moment to one side or another and if your skirts are too long, you might trip upon them and fall. Additionally, if you do fall, this dress design will help you to remain modest in such a circumstance. As the skirt itself is less full, it helps you to move more easily through tight spaces with less risk of it catching upon any rough wood. However, should your skirt catch and rip, the underbreeches will keep you from being exposed. Too, if the ship you are on happens to be attacked and any enemy has a nefarious purpose toward you, or a drunken crewman tries to become too familiar, say by trying to reach under your skirts, this dress will help protect your person from violence and exposure until one of the crew can assist you." She added, "While it is more difficult to use the necessary in such a dress, I believed it is well worth it for the modesty and protection thereby gained."

When Anne asked the purpose of the buttons on the inside of the underbreeches, Sophia explained matter of factly, "It is to attach cloths for one's monthlies. On a ship you cannot lie abed during the worst of it."

Anne and Mirabella watched in fascination as Sophia demonstrated how thick layers of flannel stitched onto a rectangular piece of cloth that matched the dress had button holes which matched up to the front and back of the breaches so that the cloth could be attached to it.

"What a wonder that is!" Mirabella exclaimed. "How clever you are!Why this very thing would make life so much easier, I am longing for such a dress myself, though I have no real need for a dress specifically adapted to life on the sea."

Sophia seemed pleased to have an opportunity to share her design with others who could appreciate it. "I began to imagine the attachment of the cloth for my monthlies from seeing how hammocks are attached, draping in the middle, and then I thought, what if a hammock was anchored in two spots on each end to hold it open. It could then curve around a woman's body and hold everything inside. There has been no one to share this with as there are precious few navy wives that accompany their husbands to sea."

Sophia explained that the dress she showed them had undergone various permutations to reach its current state and she was not sure even now it was in its final form. She told them, "What is fashionable for ladies is seldom practical. Of course I have conventional proper dresses for when we are ashore or are entertaining important guests on our ship and I like those dresses well enough, but they are not suited for ordinary life upon a ship."

She told Anne and Mirabella that they might wish to make additional modifications to the design to fit their own needs more exactly. "For example Anne, you might wish to attach a belt with buttons which you could attach pouches containing medical supplies."

As Anne had no experience with being at sea, she quickly resolved that she would defer to whatever Sophia deemed best, but might make modifications later once she tried the garments out for herself. Although Mirabella stated she had no reason to think she would ever be at sea, except perhaps if she might have the opportunity to be conveyed to see her son Edgar, it was evident that she had a longing to procuring one of these garments for herself, but had quickly decided it was of no use as she had not the funds and it would be frivolous to have one made in any event.

"Additionally," Mirabella said in a voice thick with emotion, "I cannot but think my family if they saw me in such a dress would use it as another excuse to make me their toad licker."

Anne resolved to herself that post-haste when she had some time alone with Sophia, she would raise the issue of whether they might not together find some way to improve Mirabella's condition in the future. She could not understand how anyone could treat kindhearted Mirabella so cruelly.

That afternoon, the three ladies visited the milliner to select fabrics for Anne's dresses, aprons, bonnets and flannels. Sophia resolved also that she wanted two new dresses of the design herself. The ladies spent much time perusing blues and indigos as Sophia said these colors would fade less from sunlight and salt water and still be attractive when they faded. "Not only is a faded dress less attractive, but a lighter color when faded might expose one more than it should," she explained. However they also purchased a length of dark yellow cloth as she expected it would simply fade to a lighter yellow.

When Anne worried they were purchasing too much fabric for each dress, Sophia explained that it was best for them to be cut on the bias thus requiring more cloth but the remaining extra pieces could be made into soft cloth bonnets which would be ideal for seafaring life.

Sophia told Anne, "Fabric bonnets are best as they easily be packed away when not in use and they will help shade your eyes and face from the sun without being too hot or heavy."

Anne smiled a little at this, believing it might help her fulfill her promise to her father to not let her face get too much sun. She cared little how much sun she got so long as her appearance was still pleasing to Frederick. Though perhaps Sophia looked a bit older than her years from all the weathering she had received, the lines she had seemed more associated with happiness than frustration or grief. Anne though she would welcome lines on her own face if a byproduct of happiness.

"Too, the extra cloth is a good backing for the flannels I showed you," here Sophia gave a little smile which confirmed the presence of small lines around her mouth and eyes. "Additionally, the excess cloth can be used in many practical ways. I have thought that if I ever had children I might sew baby clothes from the extra bits, but instead I sewed a quilt. And one time I used fabric for bandaging the crew."

In addition to the fabric for the dresses, Sophia also picked out a long length of thick white oilcloth. Anne was familiar with the fabric as it was commonly used for luggage, but she would have never thought of using it for an apron.

Sophia explained, "As you wish to work helping to care for sick and injured men, aprons are ideal for you as they can be changed more easily than a dress and can prevent staining to your dress. Oilcloth should not stain easily. White material is best for them as any stains will fade on them with exposure to sunlight. Perhaps the aprons should have pouches attached, rather than the dresses."

When Anne tried to purchase the fabric that she had selected (while Mrs. Russell surely did not intend this purchase as the something pretty she should buy herself, it was at least a proper use for the funds), Sophia insisted upon paying, explaining that Frederick had sent her with money to be used to outfit Anne properly for a ship in any manner Sophia deemed best. It seemed strange to Anne to have her future husband, who did not know she had accepted him, be buying her clothing at this juncture. However, she was practical enough to recognize that procuring garments in expectations of her future life was not so odd.

Anne smiled inwardly when she noticed also Sophia purchasing the fabric that Mirabella liked the best in a deep indigo hue. She would not dream of spoiling a surprise, but she suspected that Sophia had bought it so she could have a dress made for Mirabella as well.

The ladies then went to the home of a local dressmaker that Sophia had used before, who was a naval wife, to commission the dresses, bonnets and aprons (along with the cloths for monthlies as though they were simple enough for anyone to make, it was best that the buttonholes match up well with the buttons sewn on each dress). Sophia quickly sketched for Mrs. Voss the design she had in mind for each item. Sophia explained it was only really a reminder for Mrs. Voss who had made similar dresses and bonnets for her in the past, but might not remember exactly what they had done before as it had been two years. While the apron design was new, it was not so different than other aprons and the dressmaker suggested that pouches could be built in by adding another layer of cloth and stiching it into squares that were finished and opened at the top.

After the designs were agreed upon, Sophia insisted that each of them be measured and their measurements recorded. She then paid Mrs. Voss a hefty sum, ensuring that the first of the dresses would be complete in a week as the dressmaker would have the money to hire extra women and still make a tidy profit.

After they were back at the inn, Sophia confided that she had known that dressmaker for years. "Mrs. Voss's husband has never risen past second lieutenant. He is too fond of drink and carousing and too free to spend money he should be sending home to her. Generally she has nothing good to say about him as she has to take care of her family almost entirely by herself. She would be well to be rid of him forever, but every time he is home all is forgiven and he almost always manages to get her with child. Of course he is long-gone before she births each one. She will hire other navy wives who need income and make sure their tasks are within their abilities. Thus by making such purchases we help to support our own."

The ladies also visited a cobbler for the purpose of having boots made for Anne which would be especially suited to life at sea. The leather would be thicker and prepared with a water resistant coating, allow extra stability in rough seas and would cover the ankles she would otherwise be exposing in her shorter skirts.

Two days later, the ladies returned to Mrs. Voss's home for Anne and Sophia's first fittings on a dress for each of them on dresses that were only basted. Sophia insisted that Mirabella try on Anne's dress. While the fit was not quite right and it was quite unfinished, Mirabella smiled when viewing herself thus attired in Mrs. Voss's small looking glass.

When they were dressed again in their usual dresses, Sophia bid the other ladies visit Mrs. Voss's nearest neighbor, a naval widow named Mrs. Trout, whose cat had recently birthed, who was not able to go out easily for company as she was lame. Sophia said, "I cannot be around cats because they make me sneeze something awful, but that is no reason you ought not see the little darlings as I know you love them dearly Mirabella. I shall spend a few more minutes with Mrs. Voss and collect you when I am finished."

Anne was happy to comply (though she felt it a grave impropriety on her part to call on a stranger even if they could claim to be acquainted with her near neighbor), anticipating Sophia was finalizing arrangements for a dress for Mirabella. Anne wondered if Mirabella suspected anything, but soon concluded that Mirabella's mind was entirely on the kittens as she was muttering to herself, "I wonder how old they are and if the mother cat will object to us holding them."

Mrs. Trout was indeed happy to see them even though they had not been formally introduced. Mrs. Trout welcomed them as if they were long lost family and before they knew it they were both seated on her fur covered sofa holding tiny kittens whose eyes were barely opened. It fell on Anne to talk with Mrs. Trout as Mirabella stroked, caressed and cuddled the orange ball of fuzz while speaking to it as if it was a baby.

"Oh, it does my heart good to see someone who loves cats as I do," Mrs. Trout told Anne as they both watched Mirabella with the kitten. "I know that most think cats are only worthwhile to catch vermin, but I have found they make delightful companions, especially for one such as me who can hardly get around." She gestured to the crutch beside her. "At least I am not entirely useless as Mrs. Voss gives me some sewing to do. Do you think she might want to keep one when they are old enough to leave their mother? I hardly have room for more."

Mirabella, who Anne believed was entirely oblivious to the conversation of Mrs. Trout, so enamored was she by the kitten, shook her head and gave a little sigh. "I thank you for thinking of me, Mrs. Trout, but I know not how much longer we will be in Portsmouth and my family will not let me keep a cat within their home. They have no use for cats and I daresay less use for me, but cannot put me out."

Neither Anne nor Mrs. Trout seemed to know how to reply, and Mirabella soon filled the silence saying, "It is not right for me to complain so. I am certainly enjoying my visit, Mrs. Trout, though I daresay my conversational skills have been lacking, it has just been so long since I have been able to pet a cat and longer still since the cat I once had was a kitten."

Mrs. Trout told her, "That is quite all right, dearie. Mrs. Holmes, while you are in Portsmouth you are welcome to call anytime and share my cats with me."

Mirabella gave a tremulous smile, "I thank you for your kind consideration, Mrs. Trout."

Five days after the dresses were ordered, Anne and Sophia had a final fitting of their first dresses and saw that other dresses were in partially complete. Sophia began to get restless as she anticipated it would not be overly long until Anne was fully outfitted for naval life and yet Sophia still did not know where she needed to convey Anne. No further word had been received from Admiral Croft after the first letter Sophia found at the inn upon their arrival. Additionally, Sophia's other sources in Portsmouth as of yet had not been able to find out anything further about where the _Laconia_ was bound.

Sophia was considering whether they should proceed to Plymouth after the items they were waiting to have made up were completed. She had expected to have further word from her husband by now and had an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach that perhaps something was amiss. She knew her husband would not depart from England's shores without sending word and more likely trying to collect her, whether or not she had yet met with success in reuniting Frederick and Anne.

Thus it was with great joy that Sophia rushed to the door of their inn rooms when she heard a distinctive knock that afternoon. Anne and Mirabella looked at each other with some curiosity, but it was soon satisfied for it was none other than Captain Croft at the door (at least that was what Anne concluded as she could not imagine that there was any other man whom Sophia would be kissing and embracing with more intimacy then Anne had ever seen two people exchange. Anne was so very glad for them to be reunited, but she felt an ache that her arms were still empty and her lips were unkissed. She only hoped that Captain Croft would have word of where Frederick was bound.


	29. Chapter 29

**I posted a chapter yesterday afternoon, so make sure you read that one first.**

 **I can't remember, did I give Captain Croft a first name? I didn't see one in Chapter 9 or Chapter 13-14, which is where I would have expected to see it (though I did give the elder Captain Wentworth a first name). I guess I will name him now.  
**

 **You can skip the second half of the chapter if you'd prefer not to read about Captain and Mrs. Croft taking a "nap."  
**

It took Sophia and Captain John Croft a few minutes to think about the fact that it was not just them in the room. Although it had been little more than a week, it was the longest they had spent apart besides from her winter in Deal. When the thought finally crossed Sophia's mind that her friends were there, it was with a bit of regret that she broke off the kiss with her dear husband.

As John had spied the other ladies as he entered the room, he did not try to prolong their kiss once Sophia stopped it, but he kept his left arm around her even as she turned back toward Mrs. Holmes and who he could only assume was Miss Elliot. These were not their rooms and he knew that it was quite selfish of them to make that kind of display, but how could he resist greeting his Sophy properly? And how could he properly be without her once again as she continued in her efforts to try to reunite her brother with his lady love?

The answer was that he could not, would not, if there was any way around it. He had never been one to call in favors, preferring to earn everything he had based on his skill alone, but there were ones in the admiralty who owed him and things that could be done for an admiral that could not be done for a mere captain. As he saw to the fitting up of his new ship, a sleek and newly commissioned man of war, he resolved that it was far better to control Frederick's posting than to merely try to get word of it. He also knew that his Sophie would be the best one to strategize with him about how to make his plans come to fruition.

First he would attend his formal promotion ceremony in London and get paid off his prize money with the rest of his former crew (some of whom he was determined would come with him), and then he would spend a few days negotiating and calling in favors. Seeing Sophia happy and bringing joy to her brother (who was so very like his father, Captain Thomas Wentworth that he had served under, a man John dearly cared for and respected, though Thomas had his own weaknesses that in the end he suffered dearly for) would make it all worth it even if he had to take the worst posting an admiral ever had to accomplish it.

John set these thoughts to the side as he greeted Mrs. Holmes and Miss Elliot. Mrs. Holmes he had known for quite an age as he had known her husband. It was a pity about how things had turned out for her and him. Yet at least she had a fine son who had every possibility of rising in the ranks if he was serving with the right captain. John wondered if he currently was; he would need to check on that. If he was calling in favors maybe there was something do be done for Midshipman Holmes if need be. At lease Mrs. Holmes looked far better than the last time he had seen her, but it did not surprise him that spending time with his wife would soon right most anyone.

Miss Elliot was not who he expected Frederick to be attracted to as it was almost immediately apparent that she was reserved, much more reserved than Frederick in temperament. However, it did not take more than that first conversation with her for him to see how sensible Frederick's choice was. Miss Elliot had a beauty about her that was enhanced by her thoughtful expressions. She took everything in and asked intelligent questions, not to gratify some idle need to fill the air or to draw one's attention, but because it was something she wanted to know which enhanced the conversation. He noticed that she made sure to keep Mrs. Holmes involved in the discussion and kept her from fading into the background as she was wont to do.

As much as John enjoyed getting to know Miss Elliot and renewing his acquaintanceship with Mrs. Holmes, there was only so much he could take of not being alone with his wife, so after a half hour or so he pointedly said, "Sophia, I have taken rooms for us. I am sure your friends will appreciate the extra space. We can all meet up for dinner later and I suppose you can pack up your trunk then. We will discuss further plans over dinner." It took only a minute for them to decide when and where to meet to take their evening meal and with that he was able to escort his Sophy to a set of rooms far removed from the other women.

While they were everything proper in the corridor, at least as proper as a husband and wife who had been missing each other dearly could be when rushing to be alone with one another, John was glad indeed when the door was closed and locked and he could take that "nap" with his wife. When aboard his ship, his crew soon learned that at least a couple of times a week, Captain Croft and his wife were in the practice of retiring for an afternoon when all aboard the ship was calm and there was nothing much that needed doing. He knew his crew liked to make ribald comments about his "naps" and had caught quite a few of them, but as long as they did not make such comments within the hearing of his wife, he turned a blind eye to it.

He knew, as was natural, that they were merely a bit envious. After all, most of them had to rely on mounting a corporal and four while at sea and even if they were tenants for life, it might be years before they would next see their wives. It was not so surprising then that many of them succumbed to the temptation of the nearest pitcher when in port though he had his surgeon instruct them most vigorously about how easy it was to acquire the token and what the results could be. Captain Croft was quite grateful that he had listened to Captain Thomas Wentworth's advice on the matter and doing so was rewarded when Captain Wentworth trusted his daughter with him. He was also quite grateful that Sophia had been willing to sail with him. While if need be he would have been faithful to her, it was so much better to have his lawful blanket with him all of his days.

Sophia, too, seemed eager for their "nap." They were no sooner in the room when it was she that leaped at him. If he were younger, it is likely they would have taken a flourish, but he managed to slow things down a bit as it was only right to give her the attention she deserved. It was a pity her dress had so many buttons that he had to undo before she was unrigged.

Though not strictly fashionable, he liked her sea dresses better than the ones she typically wore on land. Her sea dresses were much quicker to give him access to her diddeys, though they made it harder to enjoy her muff until she was completely unclothed. He was so fortunate she was a bushel bubby, but even if she had been chicken breasted he was sure he would have enjoyed her dairy just the same.

Once they were both in their birthday suits they dearly enjoyed their "nap." When they finally separated and he felt sleep overcoming him, Captain Croft's last thought was, although I missed Sophia dearly if this is the homecoming I shall always receive perhaps it is not such a bad thing to spend a week apart from her.

Sophia for her part was most content also. As always, she had enjoyed her rogering, but falling asleep in his arms afterwards, sated and confident in his loyal affections, was her favorite part.


	30. Chapter 30

**In this chapter I am attempting to use correct terms for the time based on my research whether or not we would use such terms now. The story I relate about Captain Holmes's origins is inspired by a brief account I read in a scholarly book, Legitimate Act and Illegal Encounters: Law and Society in Antigua and Barbuda by Mindie Lazarus-Black. This book also helped me with some of the other information contained in this chapter.  
**

It was perhaps not surprising that Mirabella and Anne, being left to their own devices and having the reminder in seeing the reunification of Captain and Mrs. Croft, shared stories about how they met their loves. Mirabella raised the topic first, asking, "Anne, how did you meet Captain Wentworth?"

Anne, who had never before had the pleasure of telling the story to any but Mrs. Robinson, told Mirabella, "I first spied him while I was visiting an estate quite near my own residence, Monkford. Mrs. Bankes, knowing my eldest sister's fondness for flower gardens often had my sister for tea when the weather was fine and the flowers in bloom."

Mirabella listened to this warm-up, anticipating hearing about that first encounter. Though her own story was fraught with difficulties, she yet had hope that Anne's might have a more satisfactory conclusion.

Anne continued, "I accompanied my sister, though I typically said little during tea. Both of them seemed to enjoy speaking of their own importance more than any other matter and I found the conversation dull, though the tea and biscuits were always excellent. After tea they would take a walk in the Monkford gardens and discuss horticulture matters."

As an aside, Anne mentioned, "Of course neither my sister Elizabeth, nor Mrs. Bankes, tended her flowers herself. Instead they only instructed the gardeners what to do; I am not even sure their gardeners followed their instructions for any matter but how the rose bushes should be trimmed and what blooms planted. Likely all the success in their gardens could only be attributed to their gardeners and the funds allocated for their task. But perhaps that is too cynical of me."

Anne did not add that she remembered once hearing Mrs. Bankes mention the efficacy of used coffee grounds in improving the soil and later the same thing from the Muskgroves at Uppercross, though perhaps they had merely heard of Mrs. Bankes's advice through Elizabeth and had not actually tried the coffee grounds to amend their soil themselves. Anne felt herself to be talking overly much and yet she had not even gotten to the meeting of Frederick, so she proceeded, but determined to herself that she must ask about Mirabella's meeting with Captain Holmes as soon as could be.

"In any event, I always hung back as they walked in the gardens, typically occupying a bench rather than strolling. It is not that I am not fond of flowers, only that I felt myself an interloper, there nominally to be of service to my sister and someone Mrs. Bankes felt it necessary to invite. My role in such a walk could only be to praise the blooms and give consequence to Lady Bankes's and Elizabeth's self-importance."

Anne paused as she thought of the moment she first saw Frederick. She gave a little smile upon recollecting it and Mirabella could not help but smile in return, recalling the delight she had in her own dear Edgar, though she had when she first spied him no idea that they would ever wed, could not even conceive of such a thing.

"On this day while occupying a bench, two men walked toward me. Mr. Wentworth, who was the curate of Monkford was known to me, but the other man, the taller of the two, was not."

"Ah, and that must have been Captain Wentworth," Mirabella said, her face still in a half-smile.

"You are correct. I immediately determined there was a resemblance between the two men, though the stranger had in my opinion a more pleasing visage and seemed confident in himself, holding himself most erect, having no hesitance in taking up the space that his form required, while Mr. Wentworth always had a slight air of being uncertain of his place in the world, perhaps caused by knowing the likely temporary nature of his appointment at Monkford. I also noticed that the stranger had tanned skin and walked with his feet placed a bit further apart than I was used to seeing and I was curious as to what caused these differences between them."

Mirabella nodded knowingly, though she made no reply. Sailors were almost always tanner than those on land, at least those that did not work the fields. There was a particular gait that sailors had in which they walked with their legs and feet spread further out, learned to help them keep their feet in swells as it aided their stability. While men newly returned from the sea had an odd rolling gait, once they were on land for a few days their bodies reverted to a more typical stride, but for the spacing of their legs and feet. In this stride, sailors immediately recognized each other, as did any who spent much time among them.

"When Mr. Wentworth introduced us, he introduced his brother to me as Captain Frederick Wentworth. I can still recall the first words he said to me, he said, 'Miss Anne I am so pleased to merit an introduction to you, but I must be given leave to correct my brother. He is proud of me for my promotion, but as of yet I am only a commander without a ship, but once I have one I will be called captain by my crew, though in truth I will not be a captain in rank when commanding a non-commissioned ship. I hope you are not terribly disappointed to be introduced to a mere commander in the Royal Navy.' How could I not be curious about him with such an introduction?"

Anne's eyes grew bright as she related, "As was my typical wont, I said appropriate reassuring things and then grew silent, expecting at any moment that they would say 'good day' to me and walk away. However, Frederick continued to converse with me, though I said little he did his best to draw me into conversation. I felt almost overwhelmed by him, so manly, tall and intelligent. I found myself often trying to involve Mr. Wentworth in the conversation as I knew it was most improper for me to merely be staring into Frederick's eyes as he talked, seemingly to me alone. I am quite sure there was a blush staining my face and I could not but think how delightful it would be if I could but place my hand on his arm and be escorted by him through Mrs. Bankes's gardens."

Mirabella wondered to herself whether they ever did stroll in Mrs. Bankes's gardens but said nothing, enjoying hearing Anne's narration.

"Although I did my best to remember Mr. Wentworth's presence, I felt overwhelmed by Frederick though of course then my sister approached with Mrs. Bankes. She then introduced Frederick to my sister as Commander Wentworth with barely concealed disdain which surprised me not in the least as when it comes to matters of rank she and my sister are similar and my sister takes much pride in being the daughter of a baronet, something that is of little importance to me."

Anne's smile left her lips then as she related, "My sister kindly exchanged greetings with the brothers (she is always mannerly, at least while still in front of those she deems inferior to herself) and I saw that she had caught Frederick's eye, which surprised me not in the least as she is well known to be a beauty. I felt a keen disappointment then and knew that I hoped to come to know him better. Then Elizabeth announced that it was time for us to go home. The next time when we visited Monkford, I hoped that I might again see Frederick in Mrs. Bankes's gardens, however that hope was quickly dashed as Mrs. Bankes delighted in telling Elizabeth that she had her husband talk to their curate and he and his brother would no longer be walking in her flower gardens. I remember she said, 'The common paths that lead to outside our estate are good enough for such as them.'"

Anne could have talked much longer, detailing their next encounters and what followed, but not wishing to bore Mirabella who had been most generous in allowing her to talk on and on, and being genuinely eager to hear more about Mirabella's story and about how she met and came to be married to Captain Holmes, she asked Mirabella, "And you, Mirabella, please tell me about how you came to meet Captain Holmes."

Mirabella replied haltingly, telling Anne only, "I first met Captain Edgar Holmes when he was ashore on half pay, waiting for a new ship as a naval battle had rendered his previous ship too damaged to be seaworthy."

When it appeared no further information would be forthcoming, Anne asked, "Did you fancy him from the first?"

"I do not rightly know," Mirabella answered, "but I was curious about him."

Anne waited and Mirabella said nothing. It appeared to Anne that it would be difficult to draw Mirabella out. She waited, hoping her silence would spurn Mirabella to further conversation.

Finally Anne asked, "What made you curious about him? Was it just that he was a sailor?"

"No," Mirabella answered, "my uncle was a sailor as well. I met Captain Holmes when he had temporarily taken quarters in Bath. We were visiting my uncle in Bath on account of my father's health."

"So then your uncle introduced him to you?"

"Yes, we saw him when we were visiting the pump room. He could hardly not introduce us when Edgar greeted him so eagerly, pleased to find an acquaintance there."

Again Mirabella said nothing else and again Anne attempted to draw the story out of her. Anne had the feeling that there was something that Mirabella did not want to to tell her. Anne was a bit perplexed as to what it could be but decided to just ask, "Did you uncle have a reason to disapprove of Captain Holmes?"

"Not precisely."

Anne felt Mirabella was being very careful about what she revealed and Anne did not understand why. Mirabella's brow wrinkled and she seemed tense.

Anne determined that she needed to put Mirabella at ease however she could, but was not certain how to accomplish that as she did not know what was bothering Mirabella. However, before Anne could decide what to do, Mirabella seemed to come to a decision.

She said, "I want to tell you the story properly, you seem so understanding and kind, yet I have thought that about other people, people who have acknowledged the rightness of abolishing the slave trade, decrying those who would enslave our fellow man, yet when it comes to it they do not truly see them as our equals, or that we should even have any thing to with them, but if God created man in His own image, how can blacks and mulattoes and all the rest not be as worthy as men born and bred through many generations in England?"

Anne replied, "I have lived a mostly quiet and retiring life, exposed to very few people outside of my immediate circle and environs. I cannot say that I have ever spoken to a negro or a brown man or even spied one, except for far away, but for one man who worked tending to the gardens at my school. I understand most used to be slaves and were brought here by their West Indian owners, and reside in London. Though my father and sister travel to London, I have never gone with them. However, I feel that what you are saying must be right. If we are all sons of God, we must be equal in his sight, though rank and fortune often divides who our families think we ought to marry."

"So you agree that a person's ancestry should not dictate who they can and cannot marry?" Mirabella asked.

Anne, who had never been asked such a question before, had never even thought to consider it, did not answer immediately. She now believed she understood why Mirabella's uncle may have hesitated to introduce his niece to Captain Holmes. She wanted to be fair to Mirabella, to have Mirabella know that she supported wholeheartedly whatever decisions she had made, yet she felt a slight hesitation, born of her understanding about how marriages could impact others in the family, especially unwed sisters. She knew that if Mary had married someone considered completely unsuitable, that it could have diminished her value to some. Worse yet was the situation in which a sister was ruined, no marriage could be worse than that.

She must have paused too long in considering what to say as Mirabella suddenly said, "I do not wish to talk about it. Your silence says it all. I was just hoping that you would not reject me, too."

Mirabella stood up and turned to go into the room that was intended for a servant, the room that Mirabella had insisted on occupying even though Anne would have thought it more apt for Anne to sleep in that bed and for Sophia and Mirabella, both having known each other far longer, share the larger bed.

Anne now had a sense of why Mirabella had relegated herself there, why she was moving to go there even now. Anne said, "Please do not go!"

Mirabella hesitated and as Anne continued Mirabella remained standing but did not leave the room, so Anne stood as well.

Anne told Mirabella, "I was trying to consider the matter fully and not merely give a glib answer. It occurs to me that marriage involves more than just the bride and groom. Her whole family and his are involved, joined by the marriage. It can be a hardship for a family when someone in it marries someone else that the family and society deems unsuitable. That does not mean that the marriage is wrong in the eyes of God, or that society is correct to react as it does, but that it will be difficult for all involved. But sometimes something difficult is still worth doing. As an unmarried sister I know that if one of my sisters made what was considered an unsuitable match that it could hurt my chances to marry well. I am fortunate, though I did not tell my father my true reason for leaving, that it is doubtful that by marrying Frederick I would damage to my family, though the method of our marriage may cause minor difficulties for my sister Elizabeth for a time when it becomes known."

"I cannot dispute your reasoning about that," Mirabelle said, seating herself once again. Anne sat down as well. "However, I had no unmarried sisters. There were only two of us and I was the last to marry in my family; my younger sister had married before me. I thought I would be a spinster, was resigned to having the care of my mother when my father passed from this world, of never leaving her side until she, too, left this world behind, and then living with my sister's family."

"So was Captain Holmes an African or a mulatto?" Anne asked.

"Neither, actually, he was a quadroon."

Anne was unfamiliar with the term, so Mirabella explained. "That means that his father was a white man and his mother was a mulatto. Mr. Holmes, his father, was a craftsman whose forefathers were Scottish. Mr. Holmes spent many years in the West Indies, on Antigua which is one of the Leeward Islands. His mother, Mary, was a slave who worked as a domestic. Mary's father was likely one of the overseers of the estate. As Mr. Holmes was working on a large project for a planter's estate, he stayed in a smaller house on the estate which was separated from the walled off fields that the slaves worked for sugar cane. Mr. Holmes was unmarried and apparently, he developed a relationship with Mary as she was in charge of caring for the cleaning of his house. Edgar was born a year or two later and named with his father's last name, though as he was born of a slave, he was also a slave. I do not know whether Mr. Holmes and Mary were fond of each other but irregardless of their inclination, they could not marry."

Mirabella explained further, "In Antigua if your mother is a slave, you are a slave regardless of your parentage. When Edgar was about five, his father manumitted him, exchanging him for a slave he purchased who was a few years older and of more value at the time. When Mr. Holmes left Antigua, he took Edgar with him, intending to raise him to also be a cabinet maker, imagining that he would work at his side. Mr. Holmes knew that Edgar would be far better off in England than as a free colored man on Antigua. Mr. Holmes family was not too happy when he returned with Edgar, but Mr. Holmes persisted that his son would learn his trade and he wrote his will to leave what he had to Edgar."

Mirabella gave a little sigh then. "Edgar often said he had bad luck, though I think with how his life began he certainly had good luck that he did not remain a slave his whole life, who knows when slavery will be abolished on the Leeward Islands. However, if he had bad luck it struck when he was about twelve years of age. His father died in a carriage accident and his father's people had no interest in following Mr. Holmes's wishes. The will which Edgar had seen, his father made much of a point of showing it to Edgar and having him sound out the words in it, conveniently disappeared and as Edgar was only his natural child, without the will everything went to Mr. Holmes's brother. His brother did not wish to keep Edgar and found him a position on a navy ship instead."

"How awful!" Anne exclaimed, feeling her heart go out for that poor child who lost his father, inheritance and home in rapid succession.

"Yes, it must have been horrible for him, his first position was under the ship's carpenter as his cabinet trade had taught him of working with wood. Yet he worked hard and was able to eventually become a midshipman, rather than simply one with a trade, limited in how he could rise. I believe that someone noticed his keen mind and intelligence and fortunately he was quite adept at reading and figuring before he ever began on the ship, his father had seen to that, and he was able to pass the test to become a midshipman. However, he languished at that position for a long time. He blamed it on bad luck, said he felt 'born under a threepenny halfpenny planet, never to be worth a groat' and it may well have been bad luck as many without connections languish at that rank, or perhaps it might have been that his superiors thought someone with a lick of the tar-brush was not worthy of promotion."

"But he did rise eventually," Anne commented.

"Yes he did, eventually he was made lieutenant on another ship and all went well enough there. He felt his bad luck was gone then. His captain seemed to value him, though the purser there used to call him chimney chops. He was able to distinguish himself during a naval battle and then given his first command. He again distinguished himself and finally became a real captain, only to have his ship severely damaged in battle and when I met him he was despairing of ever getting another ship. You see, those who promoted him from afar may not have known he was a quadroon, as he had an English enough sounding name and those wanting to help him probably did not mention it, but when he visited naval offices he felt he was not being given another ship based on his appearance. You see his hair and lips made his parentage obvious."

Mirabella sighed, "So you see, when I first met him my uncle, who had served with him, was not sure he should be introducing Edgar to me. Yet Edgar, other than his appearance, was an Englishman through and through. His father was an Englishman, his maternal grandfather was likely an Englishman as well. He was raised among his father's people since quite a young age (though he still remembered his mother and his older sister), was schooled with other English children, talked like an Englishman, thought of himself as one of them, but not everyone saw him the same way. I liked how he looked, but I knew I was not supposed to like him as a potential husband though other than his parentage he was fully worthy of my hand."


End file.
